The boy who blocked his own shot
by All the kings ham
Summary: It was such a simple plan. How did it go so wrong so fast? AU Samifer
1. Chapter 1

As days went, today was particularly awful. Mind you, Sam had had worse days, significantly worse- like eight months back when his best friend Jess had announced she was getting engaged. Seeing as he had had a crush on her since they met in first semester at Stanford, her relationship status hadn't been easy news to take.

Dean's little 'comforts' afterwards hadn't been any easier.

Sam had never told his big brother about the awkward crush, but that hadn't seemed to matter, Dean just knew. Dean always knew. And for months after Jess moved out to Montana (of all the god forsaken places anyone could decide to live) his big brother was still trying to fix what wasn't broken to begin with.

Sam was over Jess, but Dean had seen something in Sam months ago that he thought he could repair.

And Dean was relentless.

So the brotherly-instigated bad days continued to come to Sam with pointed regularity.

Days like today.

Today was a stunning example of why Sam dreaded spending time with Dean outside of the house. At home his brother was just the same loving jackass that he had always been. But get him out in public where there were girls of any minor levels of attractiveness and he found them suddenly playing the 'have you met Sam?' game- where without warning Dean would turn to the nearest female, ask 'have you met Sam' and then quickly walk away, leaving his kid brother to flounder through an awkward conversation with a woman he had never met.

He hated that game.

He had threatened Dean with bodily harm last time they played.

And as such Dean had found a newer, better way to torment him.

He looked around the crowded restaurant again, glancing back towards the doors. Twenty minutes of sitting at the table by himself, six 'I'm running late' texts from his brother, and Sam was ready to leave. He could be at home studying for his finals instead of being stood up like some lonely prom date.

The three of them were supposed to meet when everyone got off work and school respectively. Dean, and a friend from his from work- and Sam didn't mind the guy who came in every few weeks to balance the books at the auto shop his brother worked at. Cas seemed like a nice enough guy, even if he was a bit strange. He was kind of sweet in a weird, close talking, intense eye contact kind of way… he made Dean laugh if nothing else. But the man took way too long checking and double checking his columns of numbers, and Sam was grateful he hadn't ordered anything yet because it would have gotten cold while he waited for them.

The waitress, Shelly or Shirley or something like that, came back with her wide, white smile.

"Can I get you a refill?" She pointed at his lemonade. It would be his third refill.

"Can I get a beer actually?" Sam tried a smile, and hoped it didn't look as fake as hers.

"Certainly, hon. I'll be right back."

And she wasn't lying, Sam was fairly certain that she was gone less than a minute before she returned to his table, except instead of a beer she had a blonde.

"Right here, hon. We've been waiting for you." Apparently the name wasn't special just for Sam and Shelly/Shirley smiled at the new guy. "Can I get you something to drink until everyone else shows up, maybe a beer?"

The guy glanced at Sam, pale grey blue eyes, before turning back to the waitress, offering a tiny, unenthused smile that was easily overshadowed by hers. "Yeah, sounds good."

"Great. I'll be right back." And just like that she left again.

"Hi?" Sam was half out of his seat, not sure what to do with the guy who was neither his brother or the dark haired accountant.

The man pulled out the chair opposite from Sam, sitting down like he owned the place. "Winchester, right?"

"… yeah. I'm Sam. I, uh, I don't think we've met."

"Sam? You're the one who's _not_ the mechanic." He sort of nodded to himself, like he was sorting things out. "I'm Nick." And held out a hand for Sam to shake. There was the hint of a tattoo on his wrist, blue black ink peeking out from his jacket sleeve.

"Hi… Nick." Sam took the offered hand, it was cold to the touch.

They sat there for a strange moment, looking each other over like there would be a quiz later. The guy was older than Sam by a few years at least, gentle eyes, sarcastic turn to the corners of his lips, short, messy blonde hair, black tshirt under a leather jacket. He looked like a pleasant mix between the kind of guy who still goes out of his way to open doors for girls and the one who gets really loud and aggressive when he drinks too much.

It was those damn lawyer classed that taught Sam to over analyze and break down every new person he met. It was a new habit that he found uncomfortably intimate for his tastes.

He let go before the handshake could get too awkward.

Nick slumped in his seat, looking perfectly at ease, but he had the upper hand after all. He knew who Sam was.

"I'm sorry. I still don't-"

"I'm Castiel's older brother."

"Oh." Sam blinked. "Oh!" And he laughed, feeling like the existence of this sudden new company almost made sense. "Dean didn't tell me anyone else was coming. They aren't here yet."

Nick gave a nice, honest smile, even if it looked tired. "Cas sent me a text saying that they'd be late and to go ahead and order." He fished a phone from his pocket and set it down beside Sam's near the catsup bottle.

The waitress returned and placed two brown bottles between them, and seemed thrilled that they were ready to order. Sam had the distinct impression that she didn't like them holding up the table for so long. It was dinner time on a Saturday and there were people waiting to be seated. A table for four could be put to much better use than one guy ordering lemonades for almost half an hour.

She left them to place the order of a cheese burger and a large Greek salad with the kitchen and Sam remembered how uncomfortable it was to be in forced social situations with complete strangers.

"Castiel never mentioned he had a brother." Ah, awkward small talk, his old nemesis.

Nick laughed, startled and a little too loud, getting them looks from the table next to them. "He's got three brothers actually and I look forward to telling the other two that we weren't worth mentioning."

"Oh…" Sam hoped he hadn't just gotten Castiel in trouble, but Nick was still chuckling like this was a great joke so the younger Winchester figured that it would be ok. "So what number is Castiel in the, um… _Novak_ line up?" He had to struggle to remember the guy's last name- he'd only heard it once and that had been months ago.

"He's the youngest."

"And you?"

"Second oldest." Nick hadn't even taken a sip of his beer but he had started peeling away the label. Long curls of paper littering the table. He looked up from his little mess, eyes still as pale as storm clouds. "Did you really order _just_ a salad?"

Sam, who had been going to say something, found himself frowning in silence.

"I'm not judging or anything. You just don't look like the kind of guy who eats salads."

The perfect response to that seemed to be a confused shrug, so that is what Sam offered. "What do I look like then?"

Nick blinked at him, his small smile faltering before coming back apologetic. "I have no idea." He chuckled again, not much more than a low rumble, and he raised his beer in a bit of a salute. "I do know that I am god awful at small talk though, so here's a preemptive apology until our brothers get their slow asses here to mediate."

Sam found himself laughing. "I can drink to that." And he clanked the neck of his bottle against Nick's.

"To being uncomfortably stuck at a table with strangers."

Sam repeated the toast with earnest before taking a drink, finding himself smiling openly now. Somehow the knowledge that they were both uncomfortable with their shared situation made it less uncomfortable.

"So, Sam,?" Nick spoke with the rim of the bottle still pressed to his lower lip. "Are you a mechanic like your brother?"

"No." Sam grinned at the idea. "I don't have the patience for that kind of thing."

"Then I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you're attending the University."

"You're good at this." Sam glanced at his well worn backpack sitting on the chair beside him, knowing that the guess was fairly well educated. "How about you? Are you an accountant like your brother?"

Nick choked on his beer, laughing and covering his mouth with the back of a hand. "Good god, no. Do I look like an accountant?"

Sam looked again at the leather jacket and confusing edges of tattoos peeking now on both wrists. "You could be. I don't know what the official accountant dress code is."

"I think Cas is sort of the poster boy for number crunchers the world over." He took another drink, still cradling the bottle against his mouth. "I own a tattoo parlor off of Thirtieth and J."

"You own your own shop?" Sam was still young and occasionally wildly irresponsible, the idea of anyone owning their own business was a bit daunting.

Nick nodded, watching Sam for a long moment before speaking. "There are two kinds of people as far as I can tell, those who immediately start asking questions, about rates, what kind of work I do, those sorts of things- and then there are people who get that slightly uncomfortable look and politely ask things like 'you own your own shop'." He smiled around his bottle. "You don't have any tattoos, do you?"

Sam chuckled at the assessment, apparently he was just that easy to read. "I don't."

Nick grinned with a flash of teeth. "If you ever want to fix that, you're welcome to swing by."

Sam felt his shoulders go up, sort of defensive and guarded. "Needles kind of freak me out."

"Just don't think of them as needles. They're more like… pointy bits of metal."

"Oh, well that's completely different." Sam chuckled again, not at all eased by the thought of changing what he called them.

"Worlds different." Nick assured with a bit of twinkle in his sea glass blue eyes.

Sam shook his head and traded his beer for his phone. There was no new text from Dean, and Sam decided that he had been waiting long enough and he was now allowed to get annoyed with his brother.

**-Cas' brother is suprisingly normal**

**-we've ordered**

**-if you two don't get here soon we're going to eat without you**

Dean replied almost immediately, Sam's phone chiming to life.

**-go ahead. Were still finishing up here :/**

**-what do you think of nick?**

Sam frowned at his phone, because he thought that 'normal' was sufficient enough to describe the man, and from the few times that he had met Cas 'normal' was practically a complement by comparison.

**-he's nice.**

Sam couldn't think of anything better to say about the man sitting across from him, who had returned to peeling the last remnants of paper from his bottle.

**-he's got busy hands **

He added after a second, not sure why it was necessary to tell Dean this part, but Sam was finding it hard to not watch the other man's hands. Such distracting hands.

Dean was just as quick to reply, and Sam imagined his brother sitting beside his accountant friend, impatiently waiting, hovering over his phone as any means of distraction.

**-cas says hes good looking**

And that made Sam laugh, startled by the oddness of his brother's text.

Nick set his bottle back down, nudging Sam's. "Have they left yet?"

"No, but apparently you brother thinks you're good looking and my brother felt a need to tell me about it."

Nick got this little half smile, one corner of his mouth hooking at an odd angle. "Only 'good looking'? Last I checked I was better than just good looking."

"Brothers don't always know how to properly appreciate these things." Sam nodded knowingly.

**-he's better than good looking**

Sam passed the information along, wanting to clarify for Nick's sake if nothing else. Personally, he thought that the man looked like he needed a few days worth of sleep and maybe a shave- but he wasn't going to judge. The younger Winchester had spent the last week buried up to his eyes in law books and he was sure he didn't look all that much better.

His phone sparked to life again, dinging three times with new messages from his brother.

**-cas showed me his pic**

**-knew he would be your type**

**-just didnt thnk it wuld be so easy**

Sam frowned at his phone, not sure what to make of that, but from the corner of his eye he saw Nick's phone light up. Instead of texting back his confusion he watched the blonde pick up his phone in turn.

Angry little lines tugged at the corners of his mouth and his eyes grew dark. He started to text something slowly with one finger, jabbing each letter like he meant it.

Sam's phone lit up again, his brother's words growing less and less sensible.

**-knew u had it in u**

**-go get him**

He slowly set the phone back down on the table top, feeling it best not to answer until he could figure out just what the hell Dean was talking about. _Easy_? What would be so easy?

"I… I'm not sure that they're going to make it." He said slowly, mulling over Dean's texts as he spoke, like putting pieces of a puzzle side by side. Not quite together, but he was starting to see the picture that they could form.

"They sure the hell aren't." Nick all but growled and Sam looked up, startled at the change of tone. "See, now Gabriel pulls this kind of shit all the time, but I didn't think he would rope Cas into it too. Thought the kid had more sense than help him." He was more talking to himself than anyone else, his words in that same growling whisper as he slowly composed an apparently very aggressive text to who Sam could only guess was Castiel.

"What's going on?" Sam wasn't sure if wanted to know. He had a horrible feeling what the answer might be.

"Gabriel, brother number three, has this nasty habit of setting me up on these blind date blitz attacks- and you seem nice enough, but you aren't my type- if you know what I mean." His cold eyes flicked up to Sam's face then back to his phone. "He just doesn't know when to quit."

"Blind date?" Sam said slowly, tasting the bitterness of the words. Dean's text suddenly made sense and a quiet anger grew in Sam, boiling in his gut. "This is a _date_?"

Nick lowered his phone, the sharpness to his mouth easing slightly as he took in Sam's distressed pitch. "Cas just congratulated me, said he knew I would like you, and to use protection. Our brothers aren't coming. I doubt they ever planned to."

"I- I'm not gay." Sam winced at how loud his voice was and he tried not to look around to see if anyone nearby heard him. "No offence. I mean… but-"

"I'm not either." Nick had narrowed his eyes, mouth a thin, irritated line.

Shelly brought them their food, a hesitant smile and no banter, seemingly picking up on the heavy hostility between the two men. "Just let me know if you need anything else." She said quickly before scurrying off to another table.

The salad and burger sat between them untouched, alongside Nick's phone with its unsent message.

Sam struggled with himself, with the whole suggestion of what was happening to him. "Why the hell would Dean think it was a good idea to set me up with … with you?"

"How would I know? I've never met him." Nick grumbled, slumping, looking somewhat defeated. "But my guess is, if he's anything like my brother, then we're both here because he's an ass."

Any other time and Sam would have come to his brother's defense. But not tonight. Tonight he agreed whole heartedly.

A shared sense of betrayal stirred between them, and there was some comradery to be found in that righteous anger.

"What did he think was going to happen?" Sam tried to make some kind of sense of what his brother had done. "That I would see you and just have a sudden awakening of fabulousness?"

Nick made a rough noise, almost like a laugh but a bit too hard. "Awakening of fabulousness?" He rubbed at his eyes. "Maybe. Or maybe he just misinterpreted your haircut."

"Hey!" Sam bristled.

"Sorry, sorry." The anger seemed to be leaving Nick as quick as a sigh. "Today's just a crap day. I didn't mean it."

Sam's hands were pressed flat on the table, knuckles white. "Your burger is getting cold."

"Your salad is getting warm." Nick said snidely, but there was a hint of humor in there somewhere that softened his reply.

They ate in relative silence, brooding together without wasted words.

The world had gone wrong tonight.

Their brothers not only thought that they were gay despite no indications to the affirmative, but thought that they would also be good for each other.

No one needed to give any more strength to the idea by saying it out loud.

"So," Nick finally breathed, dragging one of his last fries through a little lake of salted catsup that he had made for himself. "How often does he do this kind of thing to you?"

"This?" Sam gestured at Nick, encompassing the whole of the man with an easy flick of his wrist. "This is a first for Dean. Normally he just buys drinks for girls in bars and blames it on me. Or when we go grocery shopping he'll have me push the cart, jostle me into someone else's, run off before they can turn around, and then they think I'm just clumsily trying to hit on them."

"You… go grocery shopping with your brother?" Nick raised one pale eyebrow at that.

"I _live_ with my brother." Sam confessed in a tired way. "We've got a little house a few miles from campus."

"How old are you?"

Sam felt that same bristle as before, and he knew he sounded weirdly defensive. "Twenty-two."

"And you're majoring in…?"

"Prelaw." He answered quickly.

"Good." Nick sounded oddly relieved. "I was worried you would say Environmental Science or something. I don't think I could go through with this if you were some kind of vegetarian hippy."

"I'm not a vegetarian." He started to pick up his beer then hesitated. "Wait, go through with what? This isn't a date."

Nick was toying with his lower lip, looking oddly thoughtful. "What if it was?"

"What if it was what?"

"A date."

"This isn't a date."

"But what if it was?" He repeated.

"You lost me."

Nick raised a finger, opening his mouth like he was going to explain, and then stopped to tug at his lip again. He sighed sharply before starting over. "My brother, the little jackal, has been pulling this kind of shit for the past ten years or so. He insists that I would be oh so much happier if only I was dating someone, and apparently anyone will do at this point."

"And…?"

"And well, you're someone, aren't you?"

Sam looked at the man across from him like the complete stranger that he was. "I'm not any more gay now than I was when you sat down."

"Ah, but your brother obviously don't know that, does he? And apparently neither does mine." Nick got this grin, slow and hungry like a wolf would smile at a lamb. "Now I'm not saying that we are, or that we do any thing... you know...but what if we let them think we were?"

Sam had no idea where Nick was trying to lead, but he knew he had no interest in following.

"What I'm offering is a business proposal. I'm sure you've gone over those in your fancy school."

"What kind of _business_?" Sam didn't know that he could feel even half as suspicious as he suddenly did.

"Would your brother stop shoving you at women if you were dating someone?"

"Yes, but I-"

"Mine would. If he thought I was dating someone then he would leave me the hell alone. I wouldn't have to worry about him bringing weird women into my work or suddenly showing up at my house with strippers."

"Castiel brings strippers to your house?" Sam could not reconcile the image of the small accountant anywhere near strippers.

"No." And Nick laughed warm enough that it was obvious he struggled with the imagery as well. "No. I don't think he would even know where to find one. It's my other brother, Gabriel. And they aren't always strippers. Sometimes they're… well, they do a lot more for a lot less money." He glanced sideways at the table to his left where a young set of parents were trying to wrangle their small son into eating something other than mozzarella sticks. "But if I was dating someone he might let up on it a bit."

"That sounds like hell but I don't…"

"But what, you like getting shoved at unsuspecting girls?" Nick was all dripping sarcasm and disbelief. "I'm not saying that we do _date_ I'm just saying that we don't tell them that we aren't."

Sam mulled the idea over for longer than he should have. The answer was no. It couldn't be anything other than no. He couldn't lie to Dean, say he was dating this man, just to have a few weeks of peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet.

"He would stop dragging me to bars… I would have time to study." All sorts of horrible possibilities swam through him.

The wolf smile was back, and this time Sam minded a bit less being the lamb. "You would have to stop going to bars with him all together if we were going to make it look convincing. You can come to my place, study to your heart's content, any night of the week. Gabriel won't come over if he thinks I'm with my… _boyfriend_." He made a bit of a face. "Hn. I don't like how that sounds."

"Boyfriend." Sam gave it a try and found it equally unpalatable.

But… he could study for finals. It was mid November now. He would only need to keep it up for a month, and then once tests were over…

"No." He was certain. "They'll figure it out. There's no way we could keep it up."

Nick looked a little crest fallen, toying with his empty bottle. He snagged a waitress and tipped the bottle in her direction. "Two more?" He glanced at Sam. "You want one too?" He turned back to the waitress before getting an answer. "Three beers, please."

She kind of laughed and nodded before going off to fill the request.

Sam was quiet, feeling guilty for even considering lying to his brother on such a grand scale.

The waitress returned and set down three more bottles and their check. "You boys can pay whenever you want. No hurry."

Nick drank, got halfway into the second bottle before looking up at Sam, his eyes suddenly alight. "I don't know about you, but for a little freedom from good intentions I am willing lie about my feelings for you for as long as it takes."

"I need some time to study, that's all." Sam was still caught between actually considering the proposition just to spite Dean- and absolute terror at what Nick was offering him. "I don't want to be in an imaginary relationship for the rest of my life."

"I'm not saying we drag it out until we're ready for the retirement home. I'm saying that after a few weeks or months of being _real_ sweet on each other that we break up gloriously. And not like a shake hands, stay friends kind of break up. Something loud and public and awful."

Sam understood. If he went through a really bad break up, not just feeling a bit sad about a crush leaving- but a broken hearted, depressed kind of break up, especially when Dean would somehow blame himself for it- because Dean always blamed himself for things like that… well, he would leave Sam alone for a while. And Sam would have guilt trip fodder for years if he needed it. '_Remember that time when you set me up with the love of my life and he broke my heart?'_

He couldn't do that to his brother. As tempting as it was.

His phone went off and Sam glanced at the messages as they came in quick succession.

**-Im staying out late**

**-feel free to get your freak on**

**-u need it**

**-just text me when its safe to come home**

Sam put his phone face down and looked up at Nick with grim determination. "I'm in."

.:.

They worked out some rough details while Nick worked out the excess of beer. He finished his bottles as well as most of Sam's while they outlined their plan of attack. It was agreed on that the best breakup possible would have to fall just before Valentine's Day for maximum effect. That gave them roughly three months to build up a believable relationship.

That meant one to two 'dates' a week during which Sam could simply hide at the school library or go to Nick's apartment which conveniently wasn't too far from campus and he could study in peace while Nick could put in extra hours at work or simply nap. Apparently he really wanted to get some napping in if he knew his sleep wouldn't be interrupted by his younger brother.

They shook on it.

Sam's deal with the devil.

He was Nick's (in title at least) for the next three months, and Nick was his.

His very own, very straight boyfriend.

And Sam realized that as low risk, low commitment as their arrangement was, it started in full force tonight.

Nick had managed three and a half beers, and despite the fact that he said he was good to drive himself home, the glaze in his eyes and his too easy smile said differently.

"Keys." Sam held out a hand and demanded in no uncertain terms.

Nick rolled his eyes. "You're my boyfriend, not my wife."

"And your _boyfriend_ is telling you to give him the keys, because you're drunk. You're coming home with me."

"_With _you?" Nick sounded surprised. "No. No, we agreed that you weren't a tramp and all dates for the first few weeks would be in public places, _then_ homes, _then_ overnight. You can't start breaking the rules first thing."

"Tramp? I never said _tramp_, I said I didn't want to look easy." It was an important distinction.

"Same thing."

" 's not. And I'm driving you back to my place and making you coffee and we will spend quality new relationship time together until you're sober enough to get your ass back to your own place."

Nick looked at him, long and steady… or at least as stead as he could manage before finally holding out a set of keys. "You're going to be the bossy kind of girlfriend, aren't you?"

"Boyfriend." Sam corrected, snatching the keys away before the offer was withdrawn.

"Same thing." And Nick put down a pair of twenties with their bill, paying for them both, and stood.

Sam got up and where as he was not surprised to discover that Nick was a good few inches shorter than him, it was obvious that the other man was not quite prepared.

His eyes grew a little wider and his smile vanished all together. "Good lord. How did you manage to get that big eating salads?" He seemed to have startled himself and had the grace to look slightly embarrassed at his words. "Sorry. The only thing Cas told me about you was that you're the brother of his mechanic friend and that you're tall. I should have guessed that he really meant it."

Sam looked down at the other man, wondering what mess he had gotten himself into.

Nick blinked into the awkward pause. "…I am drunk, aren't I?"

Sam nudged Nick towards the doors. "Come on, show me to your car."

As luck would have it, because everything else this evening had been going _so well_, it wasn't a car. It was a motorcycle. A red and black Triumph, beautiful British engineering if Sam remembered the make correctly. Dean said that they couldn't turn worth a damn and Sam wondered again how he always got himself into these kinds of situations.

The new couple argued over who should wear the single helmet. Nick said Sam should on account of he hadn't had much practice riding other than on dirt bikes in the sand when he was a teenager. Sam said Nick should because he was more likely to fall off.

Sam won out of pure stubbornness, saying that they could stand there in the fourty degree nighttime until Nick sobered up if he wanted to. It was his choice.

He drove slowly for safety's sake, but it made the whole trip take about three times longer than it should. It was a hard pace to keep with the night as cold as it was, prolonging the weather. The chill factor from the wind made it colder than the dark side of the moon and Sam found himself oddly grateful of Nick's arms around his waist.

It put the man's head close enough to Sam's that even with the helmet on he could hear the soft accusation of, "you drive like an old lady."

All Sam could really do was roll his shoulder, knocking into Nick, hoping that the aggression could be understood.

They pulled safely into the empty driveway and Sam sighed in relief.

Nick loosed his grip, pulling off his helmet. "Aw, you have an old lady house too."

The younger man looked at the freshly trimmed grass and the little white picket fence with its matching shutters and flower boxes.

"We bought it from a sweet little old grandma when we moved out here. She gave us a deal, said that Dean reminded her of her husband when they first got married." He smiled and waited until Nick climbed off before unstraddling the bike, feeling a little weak in the legs. "We stripped the wall paper and pulled up the pink carpet, but we haven't had much of a chance to deal with the exterior yet."

"Pink carpets? Sorry I missed that." Nick just smiled, tucking his helmet under an arm. "My keys?" He asked expectantly.

"Not until you've dried up."

Nick sighed as if the weight of the world was bearing down on him. "Yes, _dear_."

Sam put the keys safely in his pocket with a shake of his head and let them in the house.

He made a pot of coffee to share and got out one of his text books, not wanting tonight to be a total waste. Nick sat on the couch, graciously taking the offered mug and scooting over so Sam would have room beside him.

And very quickly, Sam realized that he had made one of the best deals of his life tonight.

Nick had been chatty at the restaurant, grinning and chuckling as they laid out the lies they would be sharing, but he grew quiet while they sat together on the couch. So quiet that every now and then Sam had to look over to make sure that the man hadn't fallen asleep or something. Nick was just there, comfortably within arm's reach, looking content with the world. Occasionally he would get up to refill his mug, or wander off to find the bathroom, but other than that he was a very peaceful studying companion. Who could want a better boyfriend?

"When's your brother supposed to be back?" It had been quiet for so long that Sam startled, looking over at Nick, and then glancing at the clock. It was almost ten.

"Oh… I was supposed to text him when it was safe to come back."

"_Safe_?" Nick gave him a knowing look before sipping loudly from his cup.

"Yeah…"

"The longer you wait the more ideas he's going to get about what we're doing... tramp."

Sam didn't feel a need to properly acknowledge that other than digging his phone out and showing Nick Dean's last texts.

"_Get your freak on_?" Nick looked up from the phone, trying very hard to not smile at Sam. "You've got a classy brother, don't you?"

"He's upsettingly classy."

"I can tell."

"You two will either hate each other or run away together."

"I would never leave you for your brother, baby."

Sam made a bad noise. "No. Just no. _Dear_ is acceptable if you have to- but don't call me _baby_."

Nick chuckled in a decidedly sober way, soft and short and very self conscious.

"You know what? _Dear_ isn't ok either."

"What am I supposed to call you?"

"Sam."

"There is nothing romantic about _Sam."_ He dragged the name out, little smile lingering in his eyes as he handed back the phone. "Honey?"

"No."

"Sweet cheeks?"

Sam laughed. "No."

"Sammy?"

"No."

"Darlin'?"

Sam sighed.

Nick grinned before looking away. "Alright, darlin'. I think I'm good to drive now. You can let your brother know it's safe to come back and that your man-chastity is still in place."

"My man-chastity?"

"For now." And Nick winked at him.

Sam watched the other man stand and walk off to the kitchen, listening as the sink turned on. Nick rinsed out his mug and Sam had a sudden sinking feeling.

"We aren't saying we kissed or anything tonight, right? It was just friends." He wanted to make sure he could keep the story straight. They had decided not to write any of it down for the sake of not creating any incriminating evidence, but it meant that they would have to commit the schedule to vague memory.

The sink turned off. "…no. Nobody is kissing anyone." Nick came back into the room, a slightly uncomfortable look on his face as he tugged at his lip. "This is going to get weird sometimes, isn't it?"

"This is already weird."

"I think it'll be worth it." He confessed softly, a hesitant tone entering in.

Sam thought about the hours of peace he would have from his big brother, of the possible freedom he would have forever after from blind dates and unexpected hookups or being shoved at random women anytime he lingered too close to one.

"I want an easy out clause added." He said suddenly. "Either of us can instigate the breakup early if we need to. Done and over like it never happened."

Nick seemed to consider before nodding slowly. "Yeah ok, mister lawyer. But I bought my ticket for this train and I plan to ride it to the end. It's going to mean sleep and freedom and for that I will be as verbally gay as I need to to keep my brother off my back."

"Verbally gay?"

"Oh, the things I will be telling my brother about your ass."

What a horrible thing to say to someone you just met a few hours ago.

Sam found himself sitting with his head in his hands, those doomed words ringing in his ears. "This is never going to work."

"We'll be fine. You've just got to commit."

"I don't know if I can."

"Commit to me, Sam."

"Don't say it like that." He begged, dropping his hands and jumping slightly because at some point Nick had come to kneel in front of him.

"Sam, from the bottom of my bitter old heart- I am begging you. Let me have the honor of being your fake gay boyfriend. It's just three months. We can be awkward friends in private, and you never have to do more than hold hands with me in public and only if absolutely necessary."

Nick's eyes were almost warm, pleading and deep as he gazed fixedly up from where he knelt at Sam's feet. He smelled like cheep beer, slightly burnt coffee, and quiet desperation.

"First date," Sam said softly, "tonight we hit it off, not yet realizing our fabulousness, but thinking we might be friends. We won't call it a 'date', but we can get a little moony eyed when we talk about each other and the brothers can get suspicious." All laid out like they had planned at the restaurant.

Nick smiled, little light of victory shining in him. "I can call you in a few days. We'll make plans to do overly manly things together."

"All kinds of over compensation?"

"All over the place." Nick promised. "And they'll get suspicious, and in a few weeks when we've come out of our closets they'll tell us that they always knew."

"I can't believe I let myself get talked into this."

"Talked into? We're equal partners in this one and it's going to be perfect. We will make them regret ever daring to introduce us, darlin'."

Sam bore his teeth. "You're going to stick with that one, aren't you?"

"Until you give me a better one, yeah."

It was like all the horrible deals that he had made with Dean when they were kids. When he knew that it was going to end badly, but his brother's blind optimism always won him over in the end.

"Ok."

"Just _ok_?"

"What else do you want?"

"I don't get a nickname?"

"No." Sam said with a wide smile.

Nick laughed, comfortable and warm like they were already old friends. "You'll get there." He stood and held a hand out to Sam.

It was like a peaceful kind of agreement had finally been reached. Nothing had really changed from the original plan, but it set easier with him now. He slowly put his hand in Nick's and earned himself a weird look.

"My keys." Nick gently slapped Sam's hand away with a hint of a smile.

"Oh." And Sam felt like an idiot, but tonight was weird enough on its own that the feeling really wasn't all that important by comparison. He handed over the set of keys and walked Nick to the door.

Even after the bike vanished from sight, Sam could hear the roar of the engine for what felt like an eternity.

He could do this. It was just three months of hanging out with a new… friend. Nothing more.

It would be so simple.

No complications.

No commitments.

No hard feelings.

No way he could have known that he would find himself in way over his head before the three months were up.

If he had had any inclination as to what would be set in motion that night, he never would have agreed to the whole awful plan in the first place.

It wasn't worth it.

Three and a half months later Sam would look back to that night- standing on the porch and listening to Nick drive away- and he would think to himself, with the full and horrible knowledge that hindsight allowed, that it wasn't worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

"So?" Dean asked with this knowing smile, so cocky over his morning cup of coffee.

"So what?" Sam asked right back, knowing full well what they weren't talking about, avoiding looking at his brother in favor of cutting up a banana to add to his cereal.

"Your date last night?"

"Yeah, thanks for that one, Dean." Sam kept cutting. "You do know I'm not gay, right?"

"You never told me you weren't." Dean could get so defensive so fast.

"It's kind of a safe assumption at this point." Sam tossed his knife in the sink and sat down at the table beside his brother. They shared a stony look, Sam doing his best to be as indignant as possible.

"You don't like the girls I've been finding for you- I thought it would be good to try a different approach. Besides, he's totally your type."

Sam took a slow breath through his nose. "And what _is_ my type, Dean?"

"Blonde?"

"Thanks for clearing that up."

Dean sighed, setting down his mostly empty mug. "So you didn't like him?"

"We're going out this weekend." Sam said carefully, "as _friends_." He made sure to stress.

"Friends?" But Dean had this glint in his eyes like he knew he had somehow won.

"Yeah. We got to talking last night during our not-date and realized that we had a lot in common."

Dean was grinning at him.

"Like how we both like women and we both hate our jackass brothers. So we've got that going for us."

"Aw, don't be like that, Sammy." Dean got up, pushing at his kid brother's head, messing up his hair and dancing away before he could get hit. "You love me. I find new friends for you. Now you don't have to be so alone and pathetic all the time."

Sam took a bite of cereal, doing his best to ignore his brother. "You're going to be late for work."

"You're going to be late for class." Dean countered. "Hurry up. I'll give you a ride."

Despite his ability to get under Sam's skin like no other- he really did mean well.

.:.

"You want to play pool?" Sam repeated, looking sideways at his phone.

"Not necessarily." Nick's voice tumbled down the line, a bit of amusement coming through the background noise from wherever he was. "I'm asking if we can _say_ we're going out to play pool."

He closed up his books, shoving them down into his backpack. "Do you need an alibi for tonight?"

Nick had this low, easy chuckle. "Gabriel wants to take me out for drinks to apologize for setting us up last weekend and I have a feeling it's a trap… I may have already told him to go screw himself because you and me have plans to go out again tonight."

"So we're _already_ playing pool tonight." Sam pulled his bag over his shoulder and made for the stairs that would take him up out of the library's basement where all the worst study rooms could be found.

"Sorry. I panicked." Nick didn't sound all that sorry.

"It's alright. Taking a break might be good for me."

"Have you been studying hard like the good student you are?"

The cold winter sun was stunning when Sam finally reached outside and he had to turn his face away for a moment. "I've been in the library so long the sun hurts my eyes."

Nick laughed. "Poor kid."

One thing Sam never liked, it was being called 'kid', but they could talk about that later. Right now he was looking up at the clock tower, thinking he had time to get some lunch before going to his Sociology class. "There's a Hard Time billiards a few blocks from campus. I can meet you there around four?"

There was a moment of semi silence as Nick shuffled around, a muffled noise as he covered his phone to talk to someone else. "Sam? Yeah, I don't have another appointment until late tonight. Meet you at four."

"It's a date."

They both laughed a little uncomfortably at that, neither entirely sure if it was a joke or not.

As Sam put his phone away he realized that he was actually looking forward to seeing Nick again. It was a surprising feeling if nothing else. Somewhere behind the tired eyes and sarcastic words, Nick had friend potential.

There was a bit of a bounce in his weary steps and Sam thought that perhaps he might actually grow to like the other man.

But they were _supposed_ to like each other. Right?

That was the whole plan after all… wasn't it?

.:.

Nick cheated at pool.

Not anything too overt, but he had this tendency to sneak up behind Sam and nudge his cue whenever he was trying to take a shot.

"Damn it, Nick." He said with force, turning to watch the shorter man walking easily around the table. "Knock it off. You're as bad as Dean."

"After our last discussion on brothers I take offence to that, sir." Nick put a hand to his chest, looking wounded.

"You made me miss." He pointed the blue chalked end of the cue across the table, threateningly.

"I would _never_." Nick lined up his shot, easily sinking a green stripped ball. "Have you ever considered that you're just bad at pool? You _have_ missed every shot so far."

Sam thumped the butt of his cue against the floor, slow and steady like a war drum.

"Would you like me to teach you how to play?"

"No thanks." Sam didn't feel a need to share the fact that growing up in Kansas in place of a TV there had been a worn pool table where him and his brother had spent the majority of every summer for years shooting pool to pass the long hours.

Nick looked up from where he was leaned over his shot, his teeth caught against his lower lip in a concerning semblance of a smile. "We can start over."

Sam kept thumping his cue.

"I'll behave this time."An empty sounding promise if there ever was one.

But Sam started to rack up the balls again, setting the table for a new game.

"Looser buys drinks." Nick declared.

He glanced up. "I haven't even had dinner yet."

"Beer is basically bread. You'll be fine."

"I've got a night class."

"I think you're just worried you're going to lose." Nick had this innocent little smile, taking the triangle from Sam and rolling it over the felt top, the balls clacking together softly. "Come on, darlin'. I'll go easy on you."

Sam had never been all that good as suppressing his competitive nature. Too long fighting against a big brother who had felt a need to try and put him in his place ever since Sam turned fifteen and found himself looking down at Dean. Maybe it just ran in the family.

Nick was watching him from lidded eyes and when he spoke it was a low, soft taunt, not meant to be heard by anyone else. "I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul 'cus I think I'm better than you."

That cocky little smile did something bad to Sam and he leaned back against the wall fighting the urge to say something he could only get away with saying to his brother, something he might regret. "Go ahead. I'll let you break." Carefully chosen words carefully bitten off.

"How generous of you." Nick nodded in his direction, all mock gratitude. He broke and managed to sink two solids before missing a shot. He looked back at Sam with a smile and a shrug.

Sam walked around the table twice, making quiet calculations.

"I don't have all night." Nick sang softly.

Taking a slow breath Sam looked up from the table. "No cheating this time?"

Nick held his hands up in mock surrender, the smallest of smiles glinting in his eyes.

It took less than a minute for Sam to cleanly sink all the balls and when he looked up he had a hard time keeping a grin off his face.

"You… you're a hustler." Nick didn't sound at all mad, quite the opposite.

"I am not." Sam leaned a hip easily against the table, basking in the appreciative look he was getting. "And you owe me a drink."

Nick inclined his head and handed over his cue. "Indeed I do."

He came back with a beer and an orange juice and Sam laughed as he took the offering.

Nick lightly clanked his bottle against Sam's glass before taking a swig. "Any other talents I should know about before I gloriously lose another bet to you?"

Sam thought about that, about the things that he had spent so much time on when he was young enough to form strong neural pathways. He liked to read and argue and honestly had never thought of himself as a man of any real skill. He shrugged. "I guess I'm good with a gun."

"That sounds a lot more like a threat than a talent."

Sam grinned and shrugged, enjoying his well earned orange juice.

"I'll guess I'll make a point not to make you mad, darlin'." Nick decided aloud.

"You should be alright. We didn't plan for the breakup to get _that_ exciting." Sam assured him as he set down his glass and racked up the balls again.

Nick watched him with a smile, dimpled slightly by the lip of his beer bottle, never quite letting it leave his mouth. "I'm thinking that as long as we stay just shy of physical violence it should be perfect."

"No fisticuffs." Sam agreed, taking the first shot.

Nick laughed, such a free and happy sound. "You did not just say _fisticuffs_ to me."

Sam wouldn't meet his eye, worried that he would start laughing too and completely betray his well composed exterior.

"I have no idea what to do with someone like you." Nick confessed warmly, and he couldn't be drunk already, he wasn't even one bottle in, so Sam took it as honest affection.

Sometimes you meet someone and you can tell that you'll be friends.

They just feel right.

Nick felt right.

"Obviously you will date me," Sam said with a slow, sarcastic drawl, "fall madly in love with me, and even after our horrible breakup we will remain secret pen pals, sending texts and meeting for coffee in the middle of the night, never telling our brothers of secret relationship." He sunk too more balls, intentionally sending the cue ball into the corner pocket, scratching and letting Nick have a turn.

Nick fished out the white ball and gave Sam an even look. "Well, that all goes without saying. I mean tonight though. What am I doing with you tonight?"

"Tonight you are losing a few more games of pool to me, gracefully, before giving me a ride back to campus."

"As you command." Nick set his bottle aside and placed the cue ball.

He winked at Sam before taking the shot and Sam had to look away, chuckling softly and thinking to himself that this was the perfect break from studying tonight.

Even if only for an hour, and even if it's only every once in a while, it's important to look after your mental health.

Remember that.

By the time they reached their third game, Nick had resumed his cheating, just as blatant and shameless as before- occasionally going as far as to lean up beside Sam, close enough that their knees or shoulders brushed together.

"Jesus, Nick." Sam straightened, not even bothering to take his shot. He looked at the other man, close enough to really stare him down, using his full height in a way that never worked on Dean anymore. "Do you mind?"

Nick took a sip of his beer, passively calm expression. "Not at all. Please- continue."

"You wanna back up a bit first?"

"Not at all." He repeated with a smile that never left the corners of his eyes.

"This _is_ cheating, you know."

"You, Sam, are a bona fide pool hustler, and I will take whatever advantage I can get."

Sam took the smallest little half step closer, their chests brushing. Nick never batted an eyelash.

"You gunna' take that shot or what, darlin'?" He spoke so slow and careful, not at all bothered by their newfound proximity.

Frustrated, Sam remembered that Nick had brothers too. Which meant that this sort of thing was nothing new to him and that meant that much like with Dean, such tactics were wasted.

"Hey!" Someone hollered. "Queers! Go get a room."

Sam immediately backed up, looking out at the neon tinged lighting of the pool hall. He couldn't tell who had yelled at them, but he had a feeling that it was someone in the little group of laughing, polo shirt and khaki wearing guys at the bar.

There was a quiet, indignant anger growing in Sam. He glared at the group of guys until they, as a unit, turned away, avoiding eye contact.

"Pricks." He muttered and rechalked his cue, little smears of blue on his fingers.

"You know them?" Nick was still watching the five or so guys, young college kids with not enough sense to keep their homophobic ideas to themselves.

"Happily not." He said sharply and leaned down to take his shot, deciding it best to ignore the asshats.

Now, Sam was about as straight as the next guy- but little things like what one guy chooses to stick in another guy, simply never concerned him. He had just always felt it best to stay with the 'live and let live' motto that his brother had taught him at a young age.

Maybe he was a bit of a hippy after all.

Nick stayed beside him, so still while Sam missed his shot. Slowly, ever so slow, the older man put a hand on his shoulder, long fingers steady. Sam looked up at him, a little unnerved to see the lack of expression.

"Yeah?"

Somewhere on the other side of the room one of the guys yelled "Fags!" and the others laughed.

Nick suddenly lit up, eyes fixed on those douchey guys- and he smiled. "Sam, do you mind waiting outside for me?"

"Why?" Sam straightened, not quite shrugging off Nick's hand.

"I'm going to get myself kicked out in a second and I told you I would give you a ride back to school." He let go of Sam and set down his bottle. "If you're already outside waiting it will streamline the whole process."

It took about five seconds for Sam's brain to catch up, to process all those words and file them away as a line of verification for what sort of man Nick was. But by that time, the blonde was already on the far side of the bar, easily picking out the guy who had been yelling from the pack of generic jerks. With a quick, easy movement, like he had done it a million times, Nick grabbed the guy by the collar, dragged him free of his friends and slugged him square in the jaw.

Sam had never been in a bar brawl before, and even if this couldn't really count as one (seeing at it was a pool hall, not a bar), but he was always interested in trying new things. Besides, he couldn't in good conscious let Nick be the only one to have the satisfaction of punching one of those jerks.

Two against five wasn't much of a fair fight, or it wouldn't have been if one of the two weren't a Winchester. It sort of swayed the odds in their favor.

And maybe that should have been listed as one of his assets. Having an 'alpha male' type for an older brother had taught Sam how to come out swinging.

Though as it turned out Nick didn't seem to need the help. He was holding his own just fine- and all Sam's help did was end the scuffle that much quicker.

They both got kicked out and Sam considered himself lucky that no one called the cops.

Nick was leaning against the back of the pool hall, blood on his teeth, grinning at Sam with wild eyes. "You're going to have the prettiest black eye tomorrow." He almost purred out the words, still running high on adrenaline.

Sam touched his face, wincing. "Bastard sucker punched me."

"And you paid him back for it good, didn't you?" Nick stretched his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders easy and languid like a big cat. "God, you were beautiful."

"You should have left them alone." Sam chided, choosing to ignore the… well it wasn't exactly a complement, but whatever it was, he didn't address it. "They were just being assholes."

"Come on, Sam." His vividly red grin was unsettling at best. "What kind of boyfriend would I be, letting someone talk to you like that?"

"I can handle myself." He said quietly.

"I saw." His manic smile softened, and he was calming down, or at least trying to for Sam's benefit. "Is brawling a prereq for all lawyers or were you just made this way?"

"There were a few years where me and my brother didn't get along so well. Dad called it growing pains, but it was more like eighteen stitches and four trips to the emergency room in the same year." He wiped at his nose, little smear of blood on the back of his hand. "We grew out of it."

"You look like you grew out of a lot of things."

Sam wiped his nose again, shaking his head, not rising to the bait or whatever Nick's words were meant to be now. "You should have left them alone."

Nick ran a hand through his short hair, looking up at the grey sky, the color reflecting in his pale eyes. "Honest, even if you weren't there, if they had been talking to two other guys all together… I still would have decked the bastard. Someone's got to keep them in their place."

He couldn't say whether or not Nick was right in his actions, so he decided not to say anything.

"Guys like those used to send my brother home with black eyes and split lips." There was no smile at all now, and Nick was dusting himself off, fishing in his pockets, trying to find where he put his keys. "Once or twice a week for almost a year… Cas was a small kid back in high school, you know, a really easy target. And maybe you aren't. Maybe you're the god dammed jolly green giant and you can give punches just as well as you can take them- but the next guy might not be." He held up his keys with a triumphant little shake. "So, for the sake of the next guy, I had to punch the bastard in the fucking face."

Sometimes you meet someone and you can tell that you'll be friends.

They just feel right.

Sam's mouth felt oddly cold and he realized it was because he was smiling a little too widely into the November wind.

Without anymore preamble, Nick swung a leg over his bike. "You still want a ride to school?"

Sam walked around the bike with long, easy strides, settling on almost comfortably behind the other man. "Can we swing by my house so I can get cleaned up first?"

Nick spit, red tinted onto the pavement. "I was a little drunk last time, so you'll have to give me directions."

Sam laughed, and his chest hurt. He could practically feel the bruises forming. Despite all that added to the fact that he still had to go to class in about an hour- it was a pretty good day.

At least that's what he thought, up until he saw the Impala sitting in the driveway, beautiful black beast guarding the house like a warning. Nick pulled up beside it, careful not to get to close, giving her a respectable amount of room. He killed the engine and pulled of his helmet.

"She's beautiful." He whispered in an awed sort of way.

"Don't let Dean catch you looking at her like that." Sam advised, climbing off, feeling just as weak in the knees as last time he had been on the bike. Maybe he just wasn't built to be on a motorcycle.

"She's your brother's?" Nick glanced over at Sam before looking the car up and down in an almost indecent fashion. "Then he is a lucky man with good taste in cars."

Sam gave a little taste of one of his better bitch-faces. "You promised you wouldn't leave me for my brother."

"But I made no such promises about leaving you for your brother's car." Nick said solemnly, propping out the kick stand before looking at Sam's pout with the same unimpressed expression he had back at the bar. Apparently he was not an easy man to intimidate. Sam would have to work harder.

He started up the walk towards the welcome glow of the porch light. "You'd have to fight Dean for her, and the only thing he's more possessive about than me is that car."

"Good thing I'm willing to settle for you then, isn't it."

"_Settle_?" Sam glanced back, trying his best not to smile. "Lucky me."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it, darlin'. That car doesn't have an ass like yours."

Sam stopped halfway through unlocking the door to really just _look_ at Nick. "I'm worried I might have gotten myself mixed up with the wrong kind of guy."

"That's a good thing to worry about." He nodded in agreement.

Dean opened the door, apparently hearing the talking outside and getting tired of waiting for Sam to turn the handle.

"Hey, Sammy how- holly hell." Dean's face went from happy to angry in a second. "What happened to you?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." He pushed Dean's hands away, oddly aware of Nick standing right beside him in full view of the man handling that his brother was suddenly subjecting him to.

"Is anything broken?" Worry mixing with the anger and it didn't matter that they had a spectator, because the thing that Dean was best at was fussing over his kid brother.

"I'm fine." He repeated more forcefully, grabbing Dean's wrists. "'This is Nick. He's fine too."

Dean's mouth was a thin, tight lipped smile just for Nick. "If you're the one who punched him I'm going to have to kill you, and I'll just apologize to Cas later."

Nick didn't say anything at first- he was busy looking over Dean the same way he had looked over Sam for the first time a few nights back. All calculating and quiet, taking in every little detail.

"I thought you'd be taller." He said finally.

Which was, for the record, the wrong thing to say.

Dean wasn't short by any kind of measurement, but at the same time he had never really come to terms with being _shorter_ than his little brother. It was a sensitive spot with him.

"We weren't fighting _with_ each other." Sam said quickly, seeing the heat in his brother's eyes. "We just got caught up in a fight down at the pool hall." He let go of his brother once he was sure that Dean wasn't about to do something bad in Nick's direction.

"You've got class tonight." Dean looked up at him, lecturing gently. Going from hot to cold and back in seconds.

"I know. I needed a clean shirt first."

"Then come in and get one. Why're you standing out here?" Dean got out of the way, letting them both in.

Sam didn't want to leave Nick and Dean alone, not after Nick so expertly insulted his big brother, but he also didn't want to be late for class.

Priorities sometimes got in the way of good sense.

The air in the living room was thick when he got back down stairs, the two men in his life still standing right where he left them beside the door.

"Come on, Nick." He tugged on the man's arm, pulling him along before glancing back at his brother. "I'll see you after class?"

"Yeah, just give me a call when you get out." Dean forged a small smile.

"I can walk." He was already opening the door, not interested in the same argument they had almost every night before he left for class. The same argument that he lost every night before class.

"It's too damn cold out. I'll be there at ten-thirty." His brother said with finality.

Sam rolled his eyes, but he meant thank you. They both knew it.

Nick followed close on Sam's heels, a warm, friendly goodbye shot in Dean's direction as they left. He knew how to rub people the wrong way when he wanted to. Apparently he had hidden talents too.

"Wasn't there some part of the plan that involved making nice with my brother?" Sam whispered harshly. "You keep that up and he's going to be happy when you're gone."

The blonde looked over at him as he climbed back on his bike. "I'll make it up to him." He said with confidence. "But I really did think he would be taller."

"He's like an inch shorter than you." Sam clamored on behind him.

"And you're like five inches taller than me- I just assumed he'd be a giant too."

"I'm six-four." Sometimes he hated being the tall one.

His arms fit comfortably around Nick's waist and the other man stiffened slightly at the advanced contact.

"Fine, two inches taller." He relaxed as Sam let go, putting hands on his waist instead. "But it _feels_ like five. It's going to make kissing you awkward."

"We aren't really going to kiss, Nick." Sam said, but it was drowned out in the waking growl of the engine.

Nick drove him back to school, and he drove too fast, a little too reckless, almost laying the bike down as they rounded the last corner into one of the side parking lots. They came to a stop and the engine idled. Sam tried to catch his breath and was confused to discover that at some point his arms had found their way back around Nick's waist.

"It- it doesn't matter how tall I am, Nick." He tried to pick up right where they had left off, having this strong feeling that it would do no good to lecture on proper driving speeds. "We aren't going to actually be kissing at any point."

Nick looked back over his shoulder, eyes shadowed by his helmet. Expression unreadable. "I know that. And I don't give a good god damn how tall you are, but in a few days my brother will know you're some kind of giant- and he's going to love the fact that I'm shorter than you."

"I've already met Castiel. He knows I'm tall. Apparently it's my only defining characteristic."

"No. _Gabriel_."

"Why am I going to be meeting him?" From what little had had learned so far about brother number three- Sam had decided it best to avoid him as long as possible.

"He's going to demand that you and your brother join us for Thanksgiving. And he's very insistent when he wants something."

Sam glanced at the time and started to climb off the bike, his legs were even worse this time. "Why would we be invited to Thanksgiving?"

"Cas already invited your brother and hasn't gotten a definitive answer yet, but in our family a lack of a 'no' is just a 'yes' waiting to happen."

Which was a concerning family treatise if nothing else.

"Thanksgiving's next week." Why hadn't Dean mentioned this to him?

"Which means that next week we will be making eyes at each other over turkey and stuffing while I do my best to ignore Gabriel. You can do it too. It's not easy, but it's well worth it. I promise." The smile was there somewhere hidden in his voice.

"I-"

"Go. You'll be late for class." Nick gave him a little shove to get him going.

"I'll call you." Sam promised over his shoulder as he took off running.

He thought he heard the words 'I hope so' called after him, but he couldn't be sure. Was almost positive it was just a trick of the wind.

Dean was waiting to pick him up after class got out, black car gleaming under the street lamps. Sam hadn't even called him yet. His brother was just there.

The passenger door stuck and Sam's cold numbed fingers struggled with the handle for long enough that Dean started laughing audibly from the cab.

Sam settled in alongside him, closing the door with more force than necessary.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean cranked up the heater and turned down the stereo. "You learn all the good things tonight?"

"We were invited to Thanksgiving?" He hadn't intended for it to be the first thing out of his mouth, but it had been pressing on his mind all night.

"What?" Dean's smile went a little crooked in confusion.

"Nick, he said that Cas invited us to dinner. Are we going?"

Dean's hands drummed along the steering wheel, nervous gesture for some unknown reason before he put the car in gear and crept from the parking lot, careful to not hit any of the students walking through the dark to their own cars.

"He asked the same night that we ditched you at the restaurant. I was sort of waiting to see how pissed off you were about the whole thing before giving him an answer."

Normal Thanksgiving dinners, now that it was just the two of them, had been practically nonexistent. The last four years they had treated themselves to those little frozen turkey dinners that come in black plastic trays. It was a bit of a lackluster holiday at best.

"What are you going to tell him?"

"What do you want me to tell him?" Dean easily countered in a way that made it all Sam's choice. It was a habit of his, neither good nor bad, but pointedly annoying.

Sam looked out the window, black night punctuated by poorly spaced street lamps. He thought about Nick, not about the motorcycle ride, and not about his laugh as warm and dark as a summer night. He thought about the fist fight. He thought about why Nick had seen fit to haul off and punch some weasely little jerk in the face. His reasoning laid out for Sam so casual and concise.

"I'd like to go." He told his reflection in the window. "I think it'd be nice to have a real dinner."

"Alright." Dean said slowly, and Sam knew that his brother was trying to interpret the long silence that came before his answer. "I'll call Cas in the morning. Tell him to count us in."

"See if he wants us to bring a bottle of wine or a salad or something." Sam glanced back at his brother in time to see his eyes light up.

"We'll bring a pie."

"A pie?" Sam smiled.

"_Two_ pies." Dean decided with a grin, all teeth and excitement. "Pumpkin and apple."

Nothing got him going quite like the promise of dessert.

The regularity of it was almost comforting. Something that Sam could always count on.

"One pie from each of us, don't I get to pick a flavor?"

"You going to do the baking?"

"No, are you?"

"Yes, and that means apple and pumpkin and you can shut up about it. No one likes that nasty rhubarb crap except you."

Sam never knew what to do when his brother got into the kitchen. It was always a bit of an adventure- a rare and exciting adventure.

Dean had been born with some kind of dark kitchen alchemy running through his blood. Maybe he had made a deal with a devil. Maybe it had just been the few extra years he had been allowed with their mom before she died, and she had taught him some tricks that he had never shared with his little brother. It didn't really matter how he came by his powers, just that he had them and rarely felt the need to use them. Dean hadn't made a pie for them in years.

He claimed that ones from the grocery store were just as good.

He was, of course lying and they both knew it.

All pies are not created equal.

Sam was suddenly just as thrilled by the prospect of Thanksgiving as his brother seemed to be.


	3. Chapter 3

The heavy baseline of Zeps 'Moby Dick' could be felt through the floor boards, up through the bed posts. Sam closed his eyes and took a slow, long suffering breath through his nose. He had gone down stairs an hour ago to tell Dean to turn it down, that he was trying to study.

Dean's response had been to tell his brother to pull the sick out of his ass and lay off the studying for one god damned night.

He was baking and needed his 'muse'- because apparently Robert Plant, at upsetting volumes, was necessary for the creative process.

It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, campus was closed, Sam didn't have a better place to go where he could bury himself in law books. All he had was his room, which wasn't far enough from that thrumming base.

He glanced sideways at his phone on the nightstand. It looked so much like a get out of jail card, and Sam wondered if it was wrong that he was even considering using it.

But that had been the lure of this game he was playing with Nick, wasn't it?

Didn't they _have_ to spend time together to make the whole thing believable?

Hadn't Nick offered his apartment for studying?

He dialed and the phone rang through five times, Sam almost gave up, feeling stupid sitting there on his bed, waiting… waiting.

"You're on speaker phone, darlin'." Nick's voice was loud in his ear, if not particularly clear. "Careful what you say."

"Hi?" Sam asked hesitantly, not entirely sure who all he was talking to if he was on speaker.

"Say hi, guys." Nick said and suddenly there was a ruckus roar of male voices. His warm chuckle ebbed back in. "The guys say hi."

Sam held his phone back from his head, looking at it with some trepidation. "Yeah… you working tonight?"

"I am."

"Campus is closed until next week and Dean is being an ass. Is there any way I can come study at your place?"

There should have been some hesitation in Nick's answer, he should have taken some time to consider letting a relative stranger over to his apartment. There was none of that. "Of course. Swing by the shop, I'll give you my keys."

"T-thanks." The word wasn't big enough to encompass his gratitude. "I'll be by in a bit."

It was more like two bits. Dean had been unwilling to lend Sam the car, but at the same time he didn't want Sam walking or waiting for the bus. They argued until the oven timer went off and Sam took the vaguely inappropriate action of stealing the keys and leaving while his brother was distracted by a pie. He would catch hell for it when he came home later- but right then it was freedom.

He found Nick's shop right where it was supposed to be, comfortably nestled between a coffee place and an antique store. It was just a little hole in the wall, no sign out front, just the word 'open' written in red neon hanging in the window.

Sam parked, angling the boat of a car into a spot halfway down the street. He wasn't ready to meet Nick's coworkers, his friends. Granted, tomorrow he would be meeting the man's family- but that was different somehow. You don't pick your family; you do pick the people you hire to work for you. It was a different level of 'personal. Not more. Just different.

The little bell at the top of the door rang and Sam was hit with a comfortable wall of heated air. The place smelled like antiseptic and incense, which was not as stomach churning as one might think. It mixed nicely with the angry bee noise of tattoo guns and classic rock.

A small girl behind an even smaller desk looked up at Sam when he came in. She had a short black mowhawk, red, red lipstick, and a friendly smile.

"Hey, handsome." She leaned forward on the desk, thin arms folding beneath her chest as she looked up at Sam. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I'm here to see Nick."

Somehow her smile got even wider. "You must be Sam. He said you were coming by… but he didn't mention how cute you are." She dug under the desk and handed over a set of keys. "The boss man said if you showed up while he was still with his seven o'clock, to go ahead and give you these."

He took the keys, pulling off the one that wasn't for the man's motorcycle, handing the rest back. "Thanks." He couldn't help but smile at her. She was more the flavor of girl that Dean would typically go after, but just because Sam wasn't planning to order didn't meant he couldn't look at the menu.

"I, uh, don't actually know where he lives." He confessed after an overly long bought of eye contact.

She laughed. "I don't either. Give me a sec." She came around the desk in surprisingly tight jeans. I'll go talk to him- sorry, I can't let you in the back. Chick he's working on's not wearing a shirt." The little receptionist swaggered down to the back of the shop, passing a small mix of ladies and gents, working or getting work done on them.

Sam stood beside the desk, trying not to look too closely at the four out of six stations where people were actually paying to get ink dug into their skin. He looked instead at the walls, at the paintings. _Paintings_ of all things. He hadn't expected to find 'art' on the walls of a tattoo shop. Some were a bit more abstract, others less so. He found he liked the one that was only a sliver of a young girl's face, with literal stars in her eyes and water beading on her cheeks and lips, catching in her lashes. It was like she was looking up into a rainstorm.

It was a nice distraction until the receptionist came back with a slip of paper covered in spidery handwriting.

"Here you go. Boss man's address. He said that you can park in his spot." She grabbed a pen from a little cup on the desk and wrote on the back of the paper, different handwriting than the front. "And this is my number, in case you have any questions… like whether or not I'm free this weekend."

Sam grinned, laughing just a little. "Uh, thanks." And he took the paper from her.

"I am, by the way. Just in case you were curious."

"Thanks." He repeated. He thought he heard laughter somewhere from the back of the shop, but when he glanced over everyone was working. "Thanks Nick!" He called, hoping his voice would carry over the music.

The apartment wasn't too hard to find as all the streets downtown were either numbered or lettered, he just had to look for the right intersection. Luckily it wasn't too far away. He followed Nick's poorly written directions, parking in a covered spot with a little white forty-three painted on it. Sam had the joy of hoofing it up three flights of stairs to the fourth floor and letting himself into his soon-to-be-fake-boyfriend's apartment.

It didn't feel so much like breaking and entering as it did just generic trespassing, despite the fact that he had been given full permission. Verbal and written. The note in fact told Sam he was welcome to anything in the fridge and to turn on the heater if it was cold.

And it was.

Sam found the thermostat then settled himself into the table, trying not to look around and pass too much judgment on the state of the apartment. It was clean, to the point it looked practically unlived in. Hardly any furniture, no clutter, no mess other than a monthly calendar sitting on the kitchen counter instead of on the wall, and an odd stack of books that seemed to have flooded out of the already packed bookcase in the corner beside the lumpy plaid couch. It was an odd apartment, not uncomfortable, just odd.

But as he dug out his textbooks he remembered the conversation that they had had their first night in the restaurant. Apparently Nick really had meant it when he said that he spent the majority of his time away from home. Saying that he 'lived at work' had seemed like an exaggeration, now it seemed a lot closer to the truth.

All of that aside- it was quiet.

Soft purr of the heater kicking in, dry sound of pages turning.

It was like he had died and gone to study-heaven.

He got lost for a few hours, ignoring Dean's phone calls, putting his cell on silence and just backing in the silence.

He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door.

"Little pig, little pig. Let me come in." Nick sang softly from out in the hall. "It's colder than a witch's tit out here."

Sam got up and unlocked the door with a grin. "I don't think that's how it goes."

"It is tonight." Nick handed Sam his helmet and shouldering his way into the apartment. "Oh, bless your soul, you beautiful man. You turned the heater on." He smiled over his shoulder, hair mashed down, cheeks ruddy. "If you start a pot of coffee while I'm in the shower I might propose."

"I will start the coffee only if you promise _not_ to propose." Sam set the helmet on the counter and looked around the empty kitchen for a coffee maker that he didn't see. "You sure you want coffee, it's after midnight?"

"I want to be warm." Nick announced, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch. He looked marginally smaller without the leather jacket, left with just a tshirt and flannel in washed out colors. "Shower now. Coffee after. Sleep later."

"Whatever you want." Sam shrugged and started digging through the cabinets, looking for and finally finding a coffee maker. If the man wanted to be strung out on caffeine in the middle of the night then it was his choice.

Sam would be his enabler.

He was good like that.

Ten minutes later Nick was back, hair still wet from the shower, and for the first time Sam saw his arms bare. His shirt sleeves were pushed up, almost to his elbows, showing beautiful colors and complex patterns.

Sam held out a chipped mug and Nick took it with an almost greedy look in his eyes.

"How many of those do you have?" He nodded towards the tattoos curiously.

"Three." The man grunted into his mug.

Sam raised a questioning eyebrow, looking at the artistic mess.

"There _were_ more, they sort of bled together over the years. Now I've just got one on each arm."

"Where's the third?"

Nick just winked over his mug, eyes glinting.

Sam shook his head and returned to his books.

"Aw, come on. You just going to _not_ respond to that?"

"Studying."

"How late are you planning to be studying?"

"How late can I stay?"

Nick almost threw himself down onto the couch, sitting sideways with his long legs stretched out across the cushions, mug held high so as not to spill any. "As late as you want. I'll be up for another few hours. I'm always a bit buzzed after work." He pulled a tablet out from beneath the couch, as suitable of a hiding place as any.

"Thanks again, Nick."

"Phf." He let out a dismissive breath before setting his tablet on crooked knees and turning some movie on at a low volume. "Just le'me know if I'm being too loud."

A quiet movie was oddly more distracting that one at a normal volume might have been. Sam found himself straining to hear what was going on, trying to figure out what Nick was watching.

"Silence of the Lambs?" He asked finally.

Nick's pale eyes slid over to Sam, littlest of smiles over his mug. "I thought I would watch a holiday movie, on account of it official being Thanksgiving and all." He nodded in the direction of the wall clock. Almost one in the morning, well and officially Thursday now.

"How is Silence of the … because it's about eating." Sam answered his own question with a shake of his head. "That's not ok."

"It's festive." Was Nick's weak excuse.

"Cannibals are festive?" Sam tapped his pencil on his notebook.

"You worship in your way, I'll do it in mine."

"But… Thanksgiving isn't a religious holiday."

Nick kept up his long distant eye contact, taking in each and every flicker that moved over Sam's face. "Does this mean that you're done studying?"

Sam kind of laughed, looking away, thinking that if nothing else, allowing himself to be so easily distracted meant that it was probably time for a break- if not just time to call it quits for the night.

"Yeah. I think I've earned a break." He finally relented, tossing his pencil in between the pages of his notebook before shutting it.

"Get yourself something to drink and come over here. I'll scoot."

It wasn't a matter of _scooting_ over, on account of the man was laying the full length of the couch. But Sam got himself half a mug's worth of coffee and came over. Nick lifted his legs and Sam didn't really consider what he was doing as he sat down where the man's feet had been. Maybe he just expected Nick to sit up like a normal person- he certainly didn't expect to suddenly have the man's legs sprawled over his.

And it wasn't that Dean didn't do this kind of thing to Sam all the time, it was just that he didn't know that he and Nick were already at this point of comfortable physical contact.

"Hey-"

"Give me a sec." Nick positioned the tablet on the coffee table, folding the case to make a nifty little stand so that it was at an angle that they could both see. "There."

Sam considered doing something about the shins that were laying over his thighs, then he realized that over the next few months the touching between the two of them was quite possibly going to get far more varied and interesting- so he decided that he would ignore it like the lesser sin that it was and just enjoy the movie.

And he did enjoy it, or at least the small portion of it that he did see before falling asleep.

Sam woke up when his shoulders were suddenly cold, a blanket he couldn't remember curling up with, slipping down to pool around his waist. He stretched and looked around the room, empty except for the morning sunlight streaming in through a little window over the kitchen sink.

He was alone on the couch with a heavy blanket and a mug of cold coffee.

Nick had tucked him in and let him sleep on his couch.

Sam found himself smiling until he remembered that he hadn't let Dean know he was going to be out over night.

Twenty three missed calls.

Eight voicemails.

Nineteen texts.

Oh, Sam wished that he hadn't pulled his phone from his pocket.

There was trouble, then there was twenty-missed-calls trouble.

He could either go straight home and face the furry that was his big brother, which could involve bodily damage-

Or he could call him back from the safety of Nick's.

Dean picked up on the first ring. "Sammy? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry, I fell asleep."

"Where the fuck did you go and why weren't you answering your god damned phone?" All the worry rushed from Dean in the wake of his understandable anger.

"I went to a friend's to study and I turned the ringer off." Sam tried not to yell back, firstly because it wouldn't help, and second because Nick was probably in his room sleeping.

"You left _last_ _night_. You could have fucking called me if you were gunna' stay out all night with my car. You better not have parked her on the street or something. If someone scratched her I'm going to kill you."

"The car's fine, Dean." Sam said without even knowing for any certainty.

Dean made a frustrated sound. "You going to be home soon?"

"What time is it?" He rubbed at his face, stretching again, trying to get the kinks from his shoulders.

"Almost ten." Dean was still biting off his words, anger in each syllable.

"Sorry. Yeah. I'll be home in a bit."

"I swear to god, Sam." That was it. The whole sentence.

"Bye." Sam said hurriedly, hanging up, knowing that he had a small window to get back home that would land him between when Dean calmed down enough to be reasonable and when he started to get angry because he was still waiting.

He folded the blanket, not sure where it came from, so not knowing where to put it. He settled for the arm of the couch. The coffee cup got rinsed and left in the sink. Sam was collecting his books, shoving them back into his book bag when Nick came out of his room.

Now, despite what his brother might think or say from time to time about him- Sam had never considered himself to be particularly sentimental.

Apparently Nick stumbling around, half asleep, in flannel pants, and a Johnny Cash tshirt, was an exception. For a full grown man, heavily tattooed and with occasionally salty language- he was adorable. His eyes were bleary, squinting against the sunlight, his hair was pressed up on one side, messy from sleeping with it wet.

" 'morning." He mumbled, leaning against the door frame, rubbing sleep from one eye with the heel of his hand.

"Hey. Thanks for letting me stay over last night."

"It's part of the plan, right?"

A sinking feeling. "Oh, god. I stayed over last night."

With a 'friend' there was no implication, nothing sinister that could be inferred from that… but staying with someone you would soon be telling people you are 'dating'?

Nick stopped rubbing at his eye to fully look at Sam, a slow realization breaking over him. "Well… does this make us official?"

"It hasn't been long enough yet."

Nick started laughing.

"It's not funny. I've only known you two weeks."

Nick was all grin and no apology. "And we may as well tell people had sex last night."

"But we didn't."

"Everyone is going to assume that we did."

"But we didn't." Sam insisted. It was like arguing with a brick wall. A particularly stubborn one that refused to listen to reason.

"It only took two weeks for you to give into all those secret yearnings, Sam."

"I _didn't_."

"And in a few weeks when we announce that we're a couple? Who's going to believe that you stayed the night last night to just 'study'?"

"Dean will." Sam assured himself. "He trusts me."

"He trusts his trampy brother?"

"I'm not- shut up." He pulled his bag over a shoulder. "And nothing happened. I studied. That's all."

"Right…" He said in quiet disbelief. "I took a shower and then we cuddled on the couch."

"That wasn't cuddling."

Nick looked at him knowingly, sort of undermining the expression with a yawn.

"It _wasn't_. You're the one with the, with the crazy legs- I was just sitting there."

Nick laughed again, a low chuckle as he shrugged, arms wide in surrender. "Let's just go with it."

"No. It's too soon." Sam insisted again.

Nick sighed deeply. Frustrated. "If you say so- but you're missing out. I'm a fantastic lay."

"I'll be sure to let everyone know. But not for another few weeks." He said with eyes rolled towards heaven, asking silently for strength.

Nick grinned again, a quick flash of teeth before looking away.

"I've got to get going. Dean's already freaking out."

Nick gave him a gentle shove out of the kitchen. "I'll see you in a few hours. We can eat and awkwardly not make eye contact."

"I'm good at that." Sam confessed.

"I noticed."

Sam smiled over his shoulder, trying not to laugh, because he knew it would come out weird and strained. "Shut up."

Of all the ways to say goodbye, Nick blew him a kiss, just a slight pursing of his lips, but unmistakable. Sam left, hanging his head, not sure exactly how to feel about any of this- and he got to keep that confused feeling all the way home.

Dean was waiting on the porch and Sam knew that he had missed that little window where it was safe to come home.

Sheepishly, Sam handed over the keys.

Dean didn't say anything, just went back inside.

"I'm sorry." Sam called out as he followed. "I was studying and lost track of time."

"Don't- alright?" Dean stalked into the kitchen, all tense and annoyed. "I don't want to hear about your lame ass studying. It's great that you're such a good student and all- but you're an adult now, Sam. You could at least stay out late having a good time for once. Hanging out with friends, going to parties, touching girls. You're in college, you should at least act like it. It's embarrassing for both of us."

It wasn't the first time that they had had this conversation.

Dean meant well.

He wanted his brother to be happy.

In fact, Dean's good intentions were exactly how Sam had found himself in the awkward deal with Nick.

Sam stood in the kitchen doorway, watching his big brother getting two pies from the fridge, adjusting the aluminum foil that he had covered them with.

"If it helps- I went to a friend's place to study. We ended up watching a movie before I fell asleep."

"Was it a chick's place?" Dean's eyes lit up for a moment.

"No- it was Nick's."

Dean got a complicated look, like he wanted to keep smiling, but thought better of it. "You two really hit if off- didn't you?"

Bodies are traitorous- and Sam realized he was blushing. There was no reason for it. None at all. Just the thought of Nick, of their conversation that morning, of what they were pretending had or hadn't happened between them.

Why was his face hot?

Oh, god. What was wrong with him?

Dean had this little smile, something crooked and curious and awful.

"We get along alright." Sam said quickly and left the kitchen. "I'm going to get a shower before we get going."

That was one of the problems with a proper Thanksgiving dinner- apparently people didn't eat it at dinner time. They were supposed to be there by noonish, and because they were going to go in Cas' car, and were driving out to Half Moon Bay, they needed to leave sooner rather than later. Apparently they would be helping with… things?

The little accountant was waiting downstairs by the time that Sam had showered and dressed in clothes that didn't look like he'd slept in them. Dean had also changed clothes, which was surprising for some reason. He looked… nice. It wasn't like his brother had put on a tie or anything as horrifying. But he'd brushed his hair.

Sam didn't even know that Dean owned a brush.

"Hello, Sam." Cas' voice was just as low and startling as it had always been. His smile was so soft and warm. Such a gentle guy. And Sam thought for a second that there was no similarity between this man and his gruff and sassy older brother, other than maybe in those blue, blue eyes. They were the same eyes.

"Hey, Castiel." He smiled back, easy and honest. "Thanks for the invitation." He really meant it. It wasn't often that him and Dean were invited to someone's house… in fact, he couldn't think of the last time that they'd been to anything like this since coming to California.

The dark haired man smiled with his whole body, if such a thing were possible. He just lit up, looking between the brothers. "Thank you for talking Dean into it. He seemed very reluctant. But it's the time of year where it's best to be with friends and families."

"Better with friends than with family." Nick said from near the front door and Sam wished that he didn't jump as badly as he did. Startled, because he hadn't even noticed that the room had a fourth occupant. "We can just stay here." He suggested.

Castiel sighed, like this was not a new argument. "No, Nick. We promised Michael we'd be there."

"But we've got pies, Cas." Nick said in a way that was meant to be tempting. "Sam's told me all about Dean's pies. They are the sort of pies worth ditching Michael for."

Castiel simply turned his back on his brother, brushing him off so easily, and smiled up at Dean instead. The two standing very close together. "Do you need help carrying anything?"

Dean smiled at his friend in a way that Sam felt that you shouldn't smile at a friend.

It made Sam uncomfortable and he didn't know why.

"Yeah, come on." He went to the kitchen, Castiel following, presumably to get pies.

Sam looked over at Nick, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. He wanted to ask if the man had seen the weird exchange, but Nick didn't know Dean well enough to have a point of reference for odd behavior. "Hello." He offered instead.

Nick nodded, hands in his jacket pocket. He looked marginally awkward and Sam didn't know if it was honest, or if it was just him playing it up because their brothers were coming back into the room.

"Come on, Sammy. Get your shoes on and let's go." Dean was carrying to pies like they were his first born children. "And leave your books. No homework."

"Yeah, yeah." He did his best to follow directions in the most belligerent was possible. Taking his time- until he realized that he wasn't just being childish in front of Dean- he had a full audience. With a sense of purpose he got on his shoes and his jacket and they were ready to go.

His brother put a pie in his arms, and Sam realized that there were three pies.

"I thought you were only making two?" He wondered if he would be able to peek under the foil without Dean yelling at him.

"Car, Sammy." His brother instructed firmly, pushing him out the door and locking up once everyone else joined them on the porch.

"Pumpkin and two apples?" Sam knew his brother's favorite. It wouldn't be surprising if he made himself an extra pie.

"Pumpkin, apple, and rhubarb, bitch." Dean announced before calling shotgun- which was unfair because it meant that Sam had to fit his long, long legs into the back seat of Castiel's bubbly little blue Prius. The tiny car was like a sullen eco friendly reminder parked beside the Impala.

"Jerk."He answered automatically, but there was no force in it. Sam climbed carefully into the backseat, mindful of the pie he was holding that his brother had made specifically for him.

The car ride could have been more uncomfortable. It could have been longer. Half an hour wasn't so bad.

Sam sat behind his brother, listening to him chatting along to Castiel about everything and nothing. It was good to see his brother interacting with a friend, but it left him sitting on the outside of things.

He must have got some expression on his face along those lines, Nick's knee bumped into his and when Sam glanced over they shared a little smile.

The older man held up his phone and Sam got the idea.

If their brothers could get all caught up in each other then they could as well.

**-I've got rhubarb pie :) **

Sam sent and Nick's shoulders shook in a silent laugh.

**-ppl actually eat rhubarb?**

Nick sent back.

**-Be that way**

**-I'm not sharing with you**

He punctuated with a firm knee bump. They shared another smile, but Dean was laughing and Sam couldn't help but look at the back of his brother's head.

**-theyre cute together**

Sam looked at his phone as it vibrated in his hand, then at the men in the front seats. They we're cute. Both laughing and smiling- but to him it was more strange than anything else.

Something Nick had said back at the pool hall, something about Castiel that Sam had never really considered.

**-does your brother like my brother?**

Nick didn't text back, he just gave Sam a meaningful look like the answer was too obvious for words.

'oh' Sam mouthed silently, no idea what to do with that information. It didn't make him feel any different about the accountant, other than maybe a little pity for him. If there was one person straighter than Sam, it was his big brother.

It was better not to dwell, because there was nothing that Sam could do about it now.

…now?

Or ever.

If Dean's friend had a crush on him, it wasn't any of Sam's business.

He had enough things to worry about right now.

Nick's knee still pressed against his was one of those things.

**-Cas talks about him ALL THE TIME**

**-I know more about your brother than I do about u**

Sam looked at his phone, smiling at the notion because frowning wouldn't change anything.

**-we will have to fix that**

And they did, or at least they made some excellent headway while Castiel drove them ever closer to the ocean. Nick asked questions, Sam gave answers, divulging all his lesser known secrets. From his boring childhood in dusty, dry Kansas, to playing soccer in jr. high, taking home stray dogs that his dad wouldn't let him keep, stealing fireworks with Dean, and almost burning down a field in mid September when they finally set them off.

Nick's leg never left his, a nice, solid constant as they rambled down the occasionally very bumpy highway.

It wasn't just a one way exchange. Sam got to ask questions too, typically just turning around whatever was asked him. As such, he found out that Nick had been born out on the East coast, never played sports, but took violin lessons for almost ten years (which Sam found oddly difficult to believe), never owned any pets, had been arrested once and kept overnight on a drunk and disorderly charge when he was twenty, and once his family had gone camping out in Yosemite and his brother said he saw a bear- but Nick didn't believe him.

It was just all the stupid things that you talk about when you're trying to get to know someone new.

"There are totally bears out in Yosemite." Sam whispered, not sure why they were so determined to keep quiet in the backseat.

"I'm not saying there aren't." Nick whispered back like a secret. "I'm just saying he didn't see one."

"You're not talking about the bears again. Are you, Nick?" Castiel interrupted loudly, and Sam could see his gaze on them in the rearview mirror.

"There weren't any bears." Nick slapped the back of his brother's headrest.

"It was twenty years ago." Castiel said with a sigh. "Let it go."

"I will when he admits he was lying."

"You're not going to bring it up tonight, are you?"

Nick looked to be struggling to keep a straight face, glancing as Sam for support, then away. "I'll behave."

"You better. Last time someone brought up that camping trip punches were thrown."

Sam couldn't help himself, he started laughing, just quiet and he thought that he hid it well enough- but Nick's knee jostled his almost violently.

"Shh." Nick hissed, such a serious turn to his mouth that at all didn't match the glint in his eyes. "It's not funny, Sam. Castiel made us sit in the corner until we were willing to apologize."

Dean was chuckling now too.

"I didn't _make_ you do anything." Cas' voice was even yet exasperated. "You and Michael are both adults. I just think it would be nice if you acted like it now and then."

Nick, being the adult that he was, older brother and all, stuck his tongue out at Castiel.

It was a good car ride.

And perhaps Sam could have happily suffered with cramped legs through another hour or so of it.

They arrived at Gabriel's house, and it was close enough to the ocean that when they opened the car doors they could hear the waves, smell the salt in the air.

Dean let out a low whistle, taking in the house that wasn't all that big, but from the location alone it must have cost almost at least half a million. "What does your brother do for work again?"

"Mostly embezzles and blackmails, last I heard." Nick said so soft only Sam could hear him.

"He's a lawyer." Castiel answered Dean with a happy smile, taking one of the pies and leading the way to the house. "It's come in handy a few times."

And Sam thought he caught a meaningful look shot back to Nick.

Nick only rolled his eyes and shut the door to the car once he was sure Sam was free.

They didn't get all that far before he leaned up into Sam, their shoulders brushing, close enough that his breath ghosted over Sam's neck. "Promise you won't leave me alone with these people."

"They're your family." Sam chided. Trying not to smile. Trying not to encourage him.

"Promise me." The humor was still there in Nick, but underneath it was something else. Something too close to anxiety.

For a moment Sam said nothing, just stood there, startled by the visible cracks in the other man. Vulnerability where he hadn't expected to find any.

Sam leaned in, even closer- close enough that his lips brushed Nick's cheek, though it wasn't intentional. "I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

The curtains in the widow fluttered as they walked up the driveway and Sam thought he saw a small pale face. Before any of them could knock on the door it was flung wide, a small girl with high pigtails and a sweater the same copper red as her hair, facing them like a foul tempered gatekeeper.

"You are late." Her cubby little fists were planted firmly on her tiny hips, as if she planned to bar the door against them.

Nick was the only one that seemed completely unsurprised. He kept walking, stalking up to the child, well over twice her height, and scooped her up like a football, easily tucking her little body up under an arm.

"We're _early_, monster." Nick informed her with a gentle shake. "I just missed you so much- I made Uncle Cas drive extra fast so we could get here sooner."

"Uncle Cas?" She peered around Nick's elbow, looking from one man to the next until she found the familiar face. "Do you have candy for me?"

"I have pie." Cas told the girl with a smile. "And you can have a piece _after_ dinner."

She seemed to consider this, looking very thoughtful and completely unfazed as Nick easily turned her upside down and took her into the house.

The entry way was all tiled floors and vaulted ceilings. White and cream and all the kinds of colors and cleanliness that one doesn't normally associate with small children- despite the pile of little bitty shoes beside the door.

"Is it chocolate pie?" The little girl asked as she dangled from Nick's arms, looking like it was the most comfortable orientation to be in.

"It's apple." Cas offered a fair substitute, before smiling up at the Winchesters. "Hannah, this is Mr. Dean and Mr. Sam. Can you say hi?"

She pouted instead, disapproving little mouth. "Do they have chocolate pie?"

"Sorry, kiddo." Dean apologized, trying to fight a smile of his own. "Pumpkin and rhubarb."

She looked like she was going to say something, but Nick tossed her up into the air, taking advantage of the vaulted ceiling to get some good air on her. She squealed in delight and hugged Nick around the neck when he caught her.

He gave her a squeeze like it was the most natural thing in the world before setting her on the ground. "Monster, go tell mom that we're here, ok?"

She took off running at a full tilt, slipping on the tiles with her white socks, catching herself on walls and corners as she vanished down the hall.

Sam thought that she was perhaps one of the cutest things that he had ever seen, and almost said as much but Nick was looking back at him with a decidedly sober expression. "Michael's youngest." He explanation.

"Castiel? Nick?" A woman came down the hall, same red hair as the little girl who had run to get her.

"And that is Michael's wife." He whispered to Sam like a warning. "Brace yourself."

And for a moment, Sam didn't understand the last part, but the woman had closed the distance, stalking the short hall with fierce intent. As soon as she reached them she pulled Cas into a hug, mindful of the pie, kissing his cheeks. Without any regard for the fact that they were strangers, the woman moved down the line, hugging and kissing Dean, then Sam, and finally Nick. She talked the whole time, a long practiced lecture.

"You should have called and said you were going to be early. Oh, Castiel, you look like exhausted. Did they make you drive? I know you hate taking the Five. And you boys- don't listen to whatever Nick's been telling you about me, I don't bite. You both are far too tall, you'll have to meet me half way." This was said as she tugged both brothers down, one at a time, to kiss their cheeks. (Which Sam didn't know how to feel about, but Dean looked to be thoroughly enjoying.)

"And you-" she hadn't let go of Nick, lingering in a hug that was a lot closer to a strangle hold. "We don't see you in almost a year and you don't even bother to shave before coming."

"I've shaved since last year." Nick was like a bear, folding around the much smaller woman, enveloping her in long arms and broad shoulders until she almost disappeared. "Just maybe not since Monday."

She made a soft annoyed noise. "How is it your brother and these nice young men all brought dessert and you brought nothing but sass?"

"Hey, I also brought the nice young men." He kissed her forehead in such a tender way before giving her the same parting squeeze he had given her daughter. "Oh, god. You're pregnant again, aren't you?"

She hit him firmly in the chest before letting him go. "You're awful."

"Sorry, you must just be putting on weight." Nick offered as an apology- which was so much worse.

Sam didn't have all that much practice with women, and even he knew how wrong that was- but judging by the wicked little smile that the blonde was wearing it was obvious that he knew it too.

Cas' eyes went wide, in something like horror. "Anna, should we just put the pies in the kitchen?" A distraction with the intent of saving his big brother.

"Just hand it over and go find your nieces." She pulled the pie from him. "They've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

Castiel grinned at the order. "Yes, mam." He started to wander off, but looked over his shoulder at Dean, sort of questioningly- and Dean followed, little apology to Nick as he passed off the pie he was holding, little smile at Anna, a wink at Sam, and then he was just as gone as Cas.

"And don't give them candy." Anna called after them. She shook her head and sighed before scowling at Nick with the smallest hint of a smile in her eyes. "Come on." She led the way. "And which one are you?" She asked over her shoulder.

"I'm Sam." He smiled and looked over at Nick, almost for approval and he didn't know why. But Nick smiled back, a quiet little thing just for the two of them.

"You're the poor sap that had to go on a date our Nick." She set her pie down on the kitchen counter, and smiled sympathetically up at him. "He's not so bad once the shock wears off."

Sam set his pie on the counter too, a nice collection of pastries. "He's growing on me." Which was close enough to the truth that he didn't mind saying it.

"He does that." She sighed, looking up at Nick, placing a hand on her slightly rounded belly. "You know, I told Michael if it's another girl I want to name her after you."

Nick got a confused look, eyes narrowing as he reached out to touch his sister-in-law's stomach with his fingertips. "You're going to name her… _Nick_?"

"Luci." She corrected with a wide, innocent smile.

The insult was lost on Sam but he watched in fascination as Nick bristled like a cat rubbed the wrong way.

"I could have stayed home today." He pointed out to her in a soft voice, not exactly angry, but certainly no longer friendly.

"We haven't seen you since Easter, Nick, and your brothers have missed you. They'll be happy to see that Castiel talked you into coming down." She continued, undaunted. "Now why don't you and Legs here go set the table? Rekha got out the dishes but then she went out to have a smoke. Gabriel followed and I have a feeling we won't see either of them for at least half an hour." They traded a meaningful look which was a little less lost on Sam.

"They're really doing that with your kids in the house?"

"We've been here visiting them for almost a week. You know they can't keep their hands to themselves for more than a few days."

Nick shook his head and went to the small mountain of dishes on the end of one counter. "And where's Michael?"

"Upstairs." She went to stir something on the stove. "The plastic dishes are for the kid's table."

"I've set the table before, Anna." The gruffness was already fading, settling for something more long suffering and tired.

"Well, we've got four people at the little table today. I just wanted to make sure that you set it right."

"You've only got the three kids." Nick handed a stack of plates to Sam before collecting an armful of glasses.

"Gabriel has been banished."

Nick got a little smile, corners of his eyes crinkling.

"I still can't believe that he set you up on a date with a guy- no offence." She added, giving Sam a quick once over and a sly smile before looking back at Nick. "The man can't stand seeing you alone. I swear, he'd date you himself if he thought you'd go for it."

Nick made a retching noise as he left the room.

"At least he picked a nice looking one." Anna said soft enough that it was probably not meant to carry far enough to reach Nick. "I'm glad that you both got a friend out of it at least."

Sam stood awkwardly with the plates, "How did you know about that whole…"

"When Castiel called a few days ago to tell us you and your brother were coming to dinner it all sort of just came out… he worries about things. About Nick's temper and how mad he really was about the blind date. Apparently he fears retaliation of sorts."

"I-I don't think we're planning anything that Cas needs to worry about."

"Don't let her suck you in, Sam." Nick called from the dining room. "She's a gossip and a flirt. Ignore whatever she's telling you and bring me those plates."

Sam grinned sheepishly and left Anna to her stirring. He carefully set out the plates in the oddly formal dining room. "She's… nice."

"She's scared the hell out of me since Highschool." Nick confessed as he set little red and blue and purple cups down at a little card table in the corner. "Her and Michael started dating our Junior year. She was my lab partner in Biology and over a dead frog she told me that she was going to marry the jerk once we graduated."

"That's almost sweet."

"Nothing sweet about a dead frog." Nick nudged him, warmth down Sam's whole left side. "You watch what you say around her. She's nosy."

Sam found himself nudging back, liking the contact, liking to be close enough to see the little flickers of humor that passed like shadows over Nick. He decided that you had to get close to really appreciate them.

"Why'd she call you Luci?"

Nick showed his teeth in an underrated snarl. "It's what Michael and Gabriel used to call me when we were kids."

"But not Cas?"

"Cas didn't come to live with us until he was almost old enough to drive. He missed out on the name calling faze." Nick watched Sam, answering the inevitable question before it could even be asked. "We've all got different mothers. Michael, me, and Gabriel were born just a few weeks apart. Little Cas is almost six years younger than us. Dad traveled a lot when he was young and he's probably got quite a few more kids than us four. We're just the only ones whose got dumped here."

Sam touched Nick's arm. It wasn't that the man had sounded particularly sad or angry when he gave his lineage. There was actually a stunning lack of emotion, of anything at all when he spoke.

It was the same stoniness that Dean got when he talked about their mom, or John. One parent dead and the other an alcoholic that neither of them had seen in the four years since leaving Kansas. It was like a quiet wall settling into place whenever either of them were mentioned, and it hurt Sam to see the same reaction in someone other than Dean. Dean he knew how to fix, knew how to help. Nick was still new and unfamiliar.

Nick rolled his lower lip under, biting with just a hint of teeth. Aggravated little flash of white. "Dad had a very specific taste in women- regardless of what state he was touring in. Apparently he liked them cheep and not particularly maternal."

"Touring?"

"He's a writer. Or he was. He hasn't put out a new book in years. Now he just goes on these long trips to… find himself or whatever the fuck it is that senile old men do once their kids have grown up and left home."

"Uncle Nick!" The redheaded kid, Michael's youngest, was in the doorway, her hands full of forks. "That's a bad word."

"God damn it." Nick mumbled in Sam's direction before forcing a smile for the child's benefit. "It is, but I didn't mean it. You don't have to-"

"Mommy! Uncle Nick said fuck!" She yelled as she ran from the room, all excited, knowing that someone was going to get in trouble.

Sam tried so hard not to laugh, and he might have made it if Nick hadn't turned to him with such a dangerous expression.

"This is your fault." He accused even if they both knew there was no way he could properly be blamed.

"That was all you." He chuckled, shifting his grip from resting against Nick's arm to holding his sleeve, tugging on him. "I'm just here, trying to set the table and be a supportive _boyfriend_. You're the one dropping f-bombs."

Anna stormed into the dining room like a force of nature. Cheeks flushed with anger, brandishing a wooden spoon flecked with little bits of bread. "Nick-"

"I'm sorry." He said quickly.

"We've only got two rules for family get togethers."

"I didn't know she was there."

"You've been here less than an hour and you've already got the five year old swearing like a sailor." She shook the spoon for emphasis. "If Michael heard her-"

He held his arms out wide in surrender. "It's just a word, Anna."

She took two very threatening steps towards him, spoon held up like she planned to smite him down. "You-"

Nick gently took the spoon away. "I won't tell him, and you won't tell him." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "And me and Sam will set the table."

She swatted at him with open hands. "You promise me you'll behave yourself or I'll find a way to fit you in at the kid's table too." She took her spoon back and looked at Sam. "Same goes for you."

"Yes, mam." Sam nodded seriously to her, not wanting to get threatened with the spoon because he didn't think that he would be able to keep himself safe with gentle words and a kiss.

She poked Nick once with the bowl of the spoon, sharp tap in the middle of his chest. "You only get the one warning, Nick. I won't hesitate to take you out back and give you what for." She turned on her heels, herding her daughter with her back to the kitchen

Sam waited until he was sure she was out of earshot. "She'll give you 'what for'?"

Nick shrugged like it wasn't a fight he thought he could win, so why bother trying. "Come on, there's some more silverware and stuff still on the counter."

"What's the second rule for family get togethers?" Sam followed the blonde back to the kitchen.

"The only rules are no booze and no swearing." A man who wasn't Nick answered. He was leaning over the counter, investigating the pies but spared a moment to look up with the most crooked smirk Sam had ever seen. Shaggy blonde hair and eyes so pale brown that they were almost amber. "Which one did you break first, Nick?"

Sam glanced over at his friend to see a strange look pass over Nick, complicated emotions that he couldn't read settling into something unpleasant.

"Hello, Gabriel." Nick said his brother's name like it tasted bitter.

"Hello to you too." He set the aluminum foil back into place, seemingly satisfied with his examination. He pushed himself up from the counter, standing at his full height, which was considerably less than his brother. He held his arms out wide, asking for a hug that he was never going to get.

The brothers looked at each other for a minute that threatened to stretch on into an eternity.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Gabriel broke first, dropping his arms in favor of eyeing Sam with a friendly expression. "Or at least tell me how tall I need to be to ride that ride?"

"This is the Sam Winchester you talked Cas into throwing at me." Nick collected the last few odds and ends that needed to go to the table, handing half of them off to Sam.

"Oh." Gabriel's eyes lit up, giving Sam a complete once over. "Oh Nick. You are _so_ welcome." He turned back to his brother with a grin.

"With all respect for Anna, you can go screw yourself." Nick managed to smile in anger, which was as fascinating as it was disturbing.

"_Nick_." Anna warned without even look up from the stove.

"Screw isn't a bad word." He pointed out as he left the room, forcing Sam to take long strides to keep up. "Technically, neither is bastard. It's in the bible."

"Ass is also in the bible." Gabriel offered helpfully as he followed them. "As in, you're an ungrateful ass." He looked at the table setting and adjusted one of the glasses that Nick had sat down earlier, moving it to the other side of the plate.

"I remember specifically telling you to stop setting me up on dates." Nick moved the glass back to where he had first set it.

"Come on, we both know I wasn't listening. And isn't it great that I didn't? Look at him. He's gorgeous."

The younger Winchester stood there awkwardly, handing over silverware as needed. "Thanks?"

"I don't see why everyone's pissed at me for finding a way to introduce you two. So what if you're a guy? Attractive is attractive." Gabriel winked at Sam, which wasn't as charming as the few times that Nick had done it. "And despite all his protests of being 'straight' my brother still likes you well enough to invite you to dinner, so I say it worked out perfectly."

"Cas invited him and his brother." Nick set down the last bit of cutlery with a firm thunk. "It had nothing to do with me."

Gabriel rolled his eyes so hard it must have hurt. "Don't be like that, Nick. You'll hurt his feelings." He pushed at his brother and smiled apologetically at Sam. "He doesn't mean it, you know. Once you get past his hard shell you'll find he's got this soft gooey center."

Nick gestured rudely at his brother, and for whatever that's worth, it probably didn't count as a bad word since he didn't say it out loud.

And Sam found himself struggling again not to laugh. Nick had shown himself to be many things in the short time that they had known each other- but soft and gooey he was not.

"He's like a bear trap with a kitten in the middle." Gabriel added, which was almost certainly meant to be affectionate, but just provided a very bizarre mental image.

"Kittens are soft and gooey?" Sam grinned and it was almost like a betrayal to Nick who looked on the close end of murderous.

"No analogy is perfect, kido." Gabriel said conspiratorially. "Neither is any kitten, or big brother for that matter." He was standing between Sam and Nick, looking up at the younger man. It put his back to his big brother and meant that he didn't see those hands coming for his neck.

Sam narrowed his eyes at Nick, giving a little shake of his head because strangulation wasn't a good solution.

"But I don't need to tell you about our Nick's good points." Gabriel said in a sing song voice. "Apparently you already know. I heard that you stayed over at his place last night."

Before Sam could fumble through that accusation Gabriel floated away, drifting on light feet towards a woman who apparently had been standing behind Sam.

If Anna was lovely in the way that foxy moms can be sometimes, with bright eyes and high, soft cheeks- this new woman was lovely like a goddess. Some glorious creature that had descended down into the unworthy dining room. Dark, smoky eyes, a spill of black wavy hair and skin the color of strong tea.

Gabriel took her hand, so reverently, raising it to his lips to kiss the gold rings on her long fingers.

"I think you are the main reason that he doesn't come to visit more than twice a year." She sighed and pulled her hand away, brushing Gabriel off in favor of his older brother.

Nick took her into the same easy, brotherly hug as he had Anna, but kissing her cheeks instead of her forehead. He closed his eyes and just held her for a second, and Sam felt a strange little stir of something that couldn't be jealousy, but at the same time he couldn't think of a better thing to call it.

With an almost husky voice, Nick whispered, "if you every want to get rid of him, I would come anytime you wanted me to."

"I bet you would." She chuckled, warm as molasses. "Now, introduce me to your nice young man." A gentle command.

"Sam, this is Rekha- who somehow got tricked into marrying that weasel over there." He nodded in Gabriel's direction. "Rekha, this is Sam Winchester, a friend of mine."

"A friend who stays the night?" She still had an arm around Nick, loosely behind his back, but she offered a hand to Sam.

He took it, her fingers so small and soft against his. "It was a quiet place to study, that's all." Sam tried to clarify.

Her smile made her look older somehow, little lines on the corners of her mouth. It didn't make her an ounce less beautiful. "Oh? What are you studying?"

"I'm prelaw, at Stanford."

"Really?" Gabriel bounded back over, far too much energy in such a small person. "I graduated from Stanford. Nick, he's perfect. Can you marry him, please? And if not, can I keep him?"

"No." Rekha said firmly, finally letting go of Sam to give her husband an exasperated look.

"Oh, but I'll brush him and wash him and ride him _every_ day." Gabriel promised his wife.

"Whoa now." Sam held up his hands, taking a step away from the little blonde, closer to Nick who was marginally safer because he had never said such concerning things to, or about him. "I- I'm not-"

"He's spoken for, Gabe." Nick interjected in a low, angry voice. No room for doubt. He didn't take Sam's hand, or put an arm around him or anything even half as possessive- but he didn't have to. It was all there in his voice.

Gabriel looked between the two of them, a curious expression on his face before he lit up. "Then you are even more welcome and I expect a _fantastic_ Christmas present this year."

Nick repeated the same lewd hand gesture as before, with a bit more violence, a bit more emphasis than the first time.

With firm determination, Rekha put an arm around her husband's shoulders, and she was taller than him by a few inches so she was still able to peek over his head at Sam and Nick. "If you two don't mind, I will take my jackal back to the kitchen where he belongs. He promised to make sweet potatoes." Her words got a little muffled in the end, and Sam had the impression that she was kissing Gabriel's mess of hair as she physically dragged him from the room.

"What was that?" Sam asked in a gutted whisper.

"That was Gabriel behaving himself surprisingly well." Nick ran his hands over his face, up through his hair, mussing it just a little. Agitation bleeding into every little movement.

"No, I mean…" Sam shook his head, struggling with the notion that that was anything closely resembling _good_ behavior. "You just put it out there. What happened to the plan? What happened to waiting another week or two?"

"I had to do something, and you and Rekha weren't going to let me kill him." Letting the tension run out of him with a sharp breath, Nick took Sam by the shoulders, smoothing out his flannel, thumbs notching comfortably into the indents beneath his collar bone. "And it was either let him take a go at you or let me keep you." One of his thumbs strayed high enough to brush the smooth skin of Sam's throat. "We were going to get here eventually, so don't puss out on me now."

Which was true, but eventually was one thing. Today was another. Sam was still struggling to warm up to the idea of this fake relationship and now he found himself sinking into it like quicksand. The comfortable weight of Nick's hands on his shoulders only solidifying their lie, pulling him down faster.

"I'm not… backing out." He didn't think he could easily reuse Nick's words. "I told you. I'm in. We shook on it." He held on to the man's wrists, his own thumbs sliding along the sharp little curve of bone- his skin almost cold to the touch. "I just want to know where it puts us since you're jumping ahead."

"Same place we were last night. Same place we were this morning. Only difference now is that one of my brothers thinks that there's something more." Nick said softly, aware that they weren't exactly in a private place, standing in the middle of the dining room, within throwing distance of the occupied and noisy kitchen.

Plans, bad plans and second guessing muddled his thoughts for a moment. It suddenly struck Sam how messed up this whole thing really was. How nothing good could come from it. How much he could already tell he was going to miss Nick when it was over.

Three months really wasn't all that long.

"I might come over again to study tonight." He decided, leaning into Nick hands just a bit, just in case anyone from the kitchen happened to be looking their way it would at least look like they were doing something other than scheming.

Nick considered this, biting his lip thoughtfully before answering with an almost regretful tone. "If you stay a little too late, after I've had a bit too much to drink, I might accidently kiss you."

Sam felt heat rising up into his cheeks and he fought it down, because it was a stupid reaction to have. "If anyone asks, I'll be sure to tell them that you did."

A suggestion of a smile warmed Nick's pale eyes. "You almost make this too easy."

"It better work. That's all I'm saying."

"You've got to trust in the plan, Sam." Nick leaned in, almost close enough to taste. "The plan is good. The plan is freedom. The plan is sleeping in on Saturdays mornings with the comforting knowledge that no one is going to bother you Saturday night."

Oh, but Nick knew how to sweet talk another guy.

"Not in my dining room, boys." Rekha announced loudly and Nick took a quick step back, wearing a slightly guilty expression like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing. "Help cook, go on a walk, play with the kids, go out to Castiel's car and fool around." She set three long white candles on the table, not lighting them yet, but settling them into place just so. "I don't care what you two do, but there is none of this," she wiggled her fingers in their direction, "where we eat food. And certainly not where the children might see."

Nick wouldn't look at Sam, he was too busy wearing a fantastically convincing sheepish expression.

"You're going to give your brother an aneurism if he catches you." She gave Nick a level look, but she may as well have been telling Sam too. It was just as applicable. "Unless your goal is to put Michael in an early grave. Then by all means, kiss your boy- but wait until after we eat. Anna and I have been cooking since yesterday and a dead husband will ruin dinner."

"You do know that there's not actually anything going on between us, right?" Nick managed to sound like a terrible liar and Sam was honesty surprised at how good the man was at this.

Rekha looked from one to the other, patient disbelief plain on her face. "Whatever you say. It's just nice to see you smiling for a change." She patted his cheek before walking back to the kitchen.

"I'm _not_ going out to Cas' car with you." Sam said firmly before Nick could get any ideas.

And Nick did have a good smile when he thought no one else was looking.

Sam tried not to smile back, scowling as hard as he could, mouthing the word 'no'.

.:.

A little before they all sat down to eat, Michael came down to join them. The greeting between brothers was even more strained than Sam had expected. They had shared a brief hug, a begrudging kiss on the cheek and less than a handful of words. Then seemed to make a point during dinner not to even look at each other and Sam wanted to ask, but he knew it was none of his business.

It was like Nick and Michael were content to pretend that the other didn't exist and everyone else just played along.

The last real holiday meal that Sam could remember had been Christmas morning the year before he and Dean left for California. John had surprisingly not had a hangover and had made his sons pancakes. The three of them had been subdued, but happy.

This was different.

Worlds different.

Anna hadn't lied, Gabriel had literally been banished to the kids table, but he took the punishment with a smile, sitting alongside his nieces and a nephew, laughing and joking around like he belonged there in their midst.

Maybe it wasn't all that much of a punishment after all.

Once they were all seated, Sam between his brother and his 'boyfriend', all around a table not really big enough for the seven adults pressed together, Michael offered a prayer. As the oldest brother, and certainly the most serious out of the boys (which was impressive when he was being compared to Castiel and Nick), it seemed fitting. Sam who had never had a family prayer over food felt a little lost, but was willing to roll with it- except when he realized everyone was holding hands with the people on either side of them. He felt like he should have been warned.

Nick's hand fit oddly well into his, their fingers twining in a way that was unnecessary but not unwelcome. Dean's hand was rough, a mechanic's hands, and he didn't seem to be able to help the urge to briefly have a squeezing match with Sam to see who was stronger. Sam won by stomping Dean's foot and they shared a look of mutual relenting before lowering their heads for the prayer.

It wasn't a long blessing, and once everyone said _amen_, Sam assumed that they were done. He and Dean certainly let go of each other fast enough.

Michael nodded to the Winchesters, something that could pass for a smile catching the corners of his mouth. "Typically before we eat we go around and all say one or two things that we're thankful for."

A tradition that Sam could go along with, but he felt Dean shifting next to him, ready to eat and not interested in more of this stalling.

Sam didn't retake his brother's hand, but at the same time he didn't let go of Nick's either. Which might have meant something, but Sam stubbornly refused to look too far into it. Everyone else was still holding hands. Even Dean and Cas.

The 'thanks' started at the kid's table. Little voices piping up about being grateful for things like ice cream, mommy, and a pet fish. Gabriel was grateful for a tolerant wife. It moved to the adult's table, people being grateful for things like good health, food, family, a new baby on the way. The usual things to be happy about this time of year. Nick's answer was a bit off beat from the rest. He was grateful for finding someone who would have his back in a fist fight after only knowing him for two days. This earned him and Sam both slightly disapproving looks from Nick's family, and a hearty laugh from Gabriel.

Then it was Sam's turn all he could think to say was 'family'- which sounded nice enough even though someone had already used it, but he and his brother knew that it wasn't a particularly inclusive title. Sam's family basically amounted to the man sitting on his right and an Uncle that he called once or twice a month. Dean gave him a complicated expression and softly added that he was grateful for a job so he could take care of his brother.

Cas was grateful that Nick and the Winchesters were willing to join them for dinner, and bees.

Sam kept his opinion that the little accountant was a bit strange.

With that parting note, they were allowed to fall on the food.

The dinner itself was fantastic. It was warm and the company was noisy and perfect in the way that family can be- even if, for the most part, no one here was actually _his_ family. It didn't seem to matter. They were welcome and included and the food was delicious.

Sam almost wished he had a wife of his own. Maybe Dean cooked once in a blue moon, but no matter how good it was when he did, it was never on this grand of a scale. This was enough food for a small army. It meant that Sam could shamelessly eat as much as he wanted.

And he did.

Oh, he did.

Somewhere into his third helping of stuffing and potatoes, Nick nudged Sam's knee under the table. The younger man looked over, fork hesitating above his plate- but Nick was listening and nodding as Anna talked about tagging along with her son Isaac and the field trip that his third grade class had had recently to the San Francisco Zoo.

Sam nudged back, not knowing what else to do. No idea what it meant.

Up until that point, he had been talking to Dean and Cas about the walk they had taken with the older of the two children down to the beach. He did his best to still listen as his brother told him about all the 'high-tide' signs and the rock caves worn into the cliffs, but now he found himself glancing back at Nick, suddenly aware of the man's little movements.

From somewhere Nick had produced a silver flask, laying it on leg, tapping it softly with his knuckles while he spoke to the woman sitting across from him. He glanced at Sam, a questioning curve to the corner of his mouth and Sam thought he understood the offer- enough at least to give a tiny shake of his head.

It was almost funny to watch, like an awful pantomime, as Nick so casually took his glass of apple juice, had a small sip, and lowered it beneath the table top. Very carefully and slowly he poured a decent amount of the flask into the glass before raising it again and taking another, longer drink.

From the glass leaving the table to it reappearing was maybe two or three minutes at best. It was all done so nonchalantly that no one seemed to take any notice. Sam wanted to applaud his friend, but at the same time found himself vaguely horrified by what he was doing.

In the end he decided to treat it just like he would if it were Dean spiking his own drink during a family get together. Sam ignored it. He bumped his knee into Nick's (let him interpret it how he wanted) before looking back to his brother and Castiel, asking some weak question about work.

Hindsight told Sam that if he was going to treat Nick like Dean in one little aspect, he really should have let it become a more encompassing decision. His own glass had been left casually somewhere between his and Nick's plates. By choosing to turn away, Sam left his glass unguarded. It was a stupid thing to do.

Sam smelled the alcohol before the rim of the glass touched his lip and he shot Nick a surprised look, but the man was leaning back, talking to Castiel behind the Winchester's backs. Making some plan to water Cas' plants for him while the younger brother was on a business trip down in San Diego next week.

Sam tried to switch glasses back, kind of hoping that he had just grabbed the wrong one on accident.

But now both glasses had that sharp, bitter scent to them. Nick had been busy.

With a shrug, Sam just went ahead and took a sip, thinking it probably wouldn't hurt him.

Whisky.

It was definitely whisky.

He cleared his throat, smiled at Dean and blatantly traded glasses with his big brother.

Though they had been talking the whole time, Dean had been curiously watching Sam's struggle with the glasses. Instead of protesting at the theft of his juice, he simply took the new glass, lifted it, smelled it, and then grinned.

"Cheers, Sammy." Dean offered and they clinked glasses together, both overly pleased with the trade.

As the meal wound down, Anna got up, wrangling her husband's help into taking their two youngest upstairs for a little post turkey nap. It left Gabriel alone at the card table with his nephew Isaac, who had hair as dark as his father's and eyes as pale as his uncle's. The two of them were animatedly devising a plan to build a tree house in the back yard.

Rekha rolled her eyes at the two, but didn't tell them no. She folded her hands on the table top, and nodded to the men who remained. "It is also a tradition in this house that those who don't cook clean up after the meal."

"Sounds fair." Dean said in a rough voice, cheeks a little rosy. He had always been good at handling his liquor, so Sam wasn't worried about Dean doing something embarrassing- but at the same time, he couldn't help but laugh quietly, because Dean had obviously moved into a good place with the addition of the whisky.

"We can clean the table and put the food away if you and Sam will wash the dishes." Castiel offered Nick.

And his big brother took a little longer than necessary considering this trade before finally nodding. His cheeks, for the record, just as rosy as Dean's.

Sam got up from the table wondering how much the two men had managed to actually drink during the course of dinner, but he didn't really want to know, so he didn't ask.

Nick swayed into him from time to time while they stood over the sink, Sam washing while Nick loaded the dishwasher or set things to dry on a dishtowel that had been laid over the counter.

"How drunk are you?" Sam whispered as their shoulders touched for possibly the fifth time since they started washing.

"Not very." Nick sounded almost disappointed in himself.

"Wasn't that the only other rule that they have here?" Sam handed over another plate.

"Two Thanksgivings back Isaac got into some wine- so started the booze ban. Which is completely unfair for the rest of us. I feel that as long as I keep it out of the hands of the children there's no problem with it."

This seemed fair enough in Sam's opinion, also it wasn't his family and Nick was an adult, so he decided it best not to argue. "I think Dean appreciated it." Which was the only positive thing that he thought he could add without being too encouraging.

"I did." Dean said with a grin, setting the last of the dishes on Sam's side of the sink. "It was a shame it had to be watered down with apple juice, but it was still good."

"It was either whisky or vodka- but I figured on account of this being an American holiday having a Russian drink might be in bad taste."

Dean patted Nick on the back. "That is some firm, anticommunist thinking, my friend." And they shared a warm laugh which dissolved into something close to giggling but somehow more masculine.

Castiel gave Sam this sympathetic, long suffering look before gently muscling his brother out of the way and joining Sam at the sink. "They aren't going to be much help, I think."

"Dean never is." Sam rolled his eyes and started handing dishes off to his new partner.

They washed in peaceable silence, listening to their brother laughing and joking about odd things, sudden bonding happening over their shared contraband.

"I am sorry for tricking you and Nick into dinner." Castiel said suddenly.

"It's been a while since I had a proper Thanksgiving, but it wasn't all that shocking. I kind of knew what I was agreeing too."

"No. I mean at the restaurant when you were supposed to be meeting me and Dean. Your brother had been telling me about how you have been feeling sad since your friend got married, and it made me think about how Nick has been alone since the divorce."

_Divorce_? Sam glanced back at Nick, watching him showing off the tattoos of his left arm to Dean who was asking questions and poking at the colors.

"I didn't know he had ever been married."

"It was… maybe eight or nine years ago?" Cas looked thoughtful as he set aside a large serving dish too big to fit in the dishwasher. "She was his highschool sweetheart. It didn't end well, and Gabriel's been trying to find someone for him since. I probably shouldn't have gotten involved. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

"I… I don't really mind." Which was the truth.

"He's a good man, even if he's…" Castiel took a turn looking back at their brothers and he shook his head. "He's a good man." It was left at that.

Sam wanted to say something, maybe to agree, or ask Castiel a question, but the laughing and talking behind them stopped so suddenly that he had to turn around and see what happened.

Michael stood there like a disapproving storm cloud, arms folded over his chest.

Castiel spoke first, and it was hard to tell if it was because he was the bravest or simply had no inherent aversion to his eldest brother. "Did you need something, Michael?"

"Anna wanted to know if Nick will be coming to Christmas this year." Michael spoke directly to Castiel, not even looking at Nick and it was all kinds of an uncomfortable exclusion.

"I don't know." Castiel's smile was slightly strained and he looked over at Nick. "Do you think you'll be able to make it?"

"I'll probably have work." Nick wasn't interested in whatever was going on, not talking to the man who had asked him, but staring directly at Michael.

Michael took his time looking over at Nick, mouth working slowly as he sought the right words. "It would be nice if you could take the time off. Your nieces and nephew miss you."

"I'll send their presents with Cas. Same as I always do."

This was not a particularly pleasing answer if the angry tilt to Michael's eyebrows accounted for anything. "I talked to dad a few weeks ago. He said he might try to make it out for Christmas."

Nick laughed without an ounce of humor. "Yeah. If he actually shows up, you call me. I'll drive down."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Have you been drinking?"

That quiet pause reared its ugly head again, the unease almost touchable and Sam had a firm belief that this was one of the reasons that Nick had made Sam promise not to leave him alone this afternoon. Only Sam was nowhere near brave enough to get himself between the brothers. Him and Dean fought sometimes, but never, _never_ had there been any kind of quiet animosity like this between them.

"I didn't even want to be here. Cas had been bothering me since June about coming, and your wife's been calling me for weeks. At this point you say 'thanks for showing up' and leave it the hell alone, Michael."

This was an even less pleasing answer somehow and Michael looked about five seconds away from armageddon.

"What are you going to do about it?" Nick dragged out the words, taunting. "It isn't your house. You can't kick me out this time."

Beside Sam, Castiel whispered "Nick, no," under his breath, which gave Sam only the smallest hint of warning before punches were suddenly being thrown.

Just like at the pool hall, Sam didn't think about what he was doing.

And he should have.

He really should have.

But he didn't. He just suddenly found himself there, alongside Cas, trying his damnedest to keep the two men apart.

Initially upon meeting the man, Sam had made the grievous mistake at assuming that Michael was the 'good brother'. He had been quiet and very serious looking, but such things do not a good man make.

The things he said to his brother were… they were the kinds of things that were best not repeated, but amounted to quite simply that there was nothing about Nick, nothing that the man had ever said or done or thought, that was worth anything. There was nothing that Michael could see in his brother that he liked, and he made it abundantly clear up until his wife came into the room and did a far better job than Sam or Cas could at keeping him off of Nick.

All she did was say his name in a warning tone and just like that, the fight went out of him. If Sam wasn't struggling so hard to keep Nick from taking another swing, he would have seen the almost surprised expression that Michael suddenly wore, as if he couldn't believe the things that he had just said.

Nick on the other hand didn't seem to feel guilty at all and kept up making a pleasantly long list of bad things to call one's brother- right up until Anna said his name as well. The same deathly serious warning held there in.

The kitchen refound it's quiet.

Sam wasn't sure if he should let go of Nick or not. No way to tell if it was actually safe.

"Michael, upstairs. Nick, take a walk."

And apparently the earlier request for not leaving Nick alone did not extend to this. The man left on his own, not quite slamming the kitchen door behind him, but definitely putting much more force into it than necessary.

"You know," Dean leaned a little into Sam, keeping his voice low even though it was just the two of them and a very subdued looking Castiel left in the kitchen. "This is actually starting to feel a lot more like one of _our_ family get togethers than I thought it would."

Sam found himself laughing, but for some reason the noise hurt his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

an:/ so I'm a dirty liar when it comes to which story I'm going to update and when. But I've been in such a fantastic mood I've only wanted to write fluff. Apparently I wanted it so bad I wrote a whole chapter of it.

You're welcome in advance.

* * *

><p>Apparently nap time translated to 'watching a Disney movie and being quiet'. Sam didn't really mind joining Castiel's nieces in the den upstairs. It was a big comfy room with a projection tv, enough seating for a small party and seemingly any movie anyone could want to watch. They let the sisters pick, despite Dean's quiet protests.<p>

Castiel took up the majority of the couch, one redheaded little girl tucked beneath each arm, looking as if everything was right with the world again. He seemed to have recovered from his brother's fight much faster than everyone else. It was almost like a few minutes ago he hadn't been clinging to Michael, pleading with him to calm down- but in all likelihood he was simply more used to dealing with these sorts of things.

"Man, prince charming is such a wuss." Dean groaned, looking to Sam for agreement. "What does this dude do other than sing?"

"He kisses Snow White and she wakes up." Sarah, Anna and Michael's middle child said sharply. "You have to wait for it."

"Is he gunna keep singing the whole time?"

"No. The bad man tries to kill Snow White and she runs away and meets the dwarfs."

Dean looked slightly distressed. "Dwarfs?"

"They are tiny men and some have beards." Sarah explained in an annoyed tone.

Dean leaned back on the recliner he had claimed, folding his arms behind his head and making a face. "They're going to sing too, aren't they?"

For such a small girl, she had a surprisingly large, vindictive smile.

The child had either seen the movie before or simply understood the formula- because there were indeed dwarves and more singing.. Dean took the easy out and fell asleep in his chair.

Sam got up from the floor where he had sprawled to sit as close to Castiel as he could without smooshing a child between them.

"Castiel, can I ask you a question?"

"I like the one with the glasses best. He seems nice." The man said quietly so as not to speak over the movie.

But Sam didn't really care which dwarf was Cas' favorite so he just shook his head and tried again. "No. Can I ask you something about your brothers?"

The man looked up at him, eyes curious. "I suppose so."

"Do they always fight like that?"

"No." He got a small frown. "They used to start as soon as they saw each other and they used to be much worse about it. Over the years we've been able to slowly postpone the fight until after we finish eating or the kid blows out the candles on the cake, or whatever it is that we're doing. And thank you for jumping in there with me. It's almost impossible to keep them apart single handed without some kind of bloodshed." He sighed and adjusted one of Hannah's pigtails.

"Did they ever get along?"

"I think maybe two or three times, back before Dad left." He answered after a moment's thought.

Sam smiled. "Just two or three times?"

"I didn't grow up with them… so there might have been one more time that I don't know about." He returned the smallest hint of a smile. "We're brothers. Not sisters. There's lot of things that they don't talk to me about."

Sam chuckled. "Dean's not big on sharing either."

"I've noticed." Castiel looked over at the man slumped in the recliner. "Sam… can I ask you a question about your brother?"

Sam nodded, feeling that it would only be fair.

"What kind of movie should I ask him to come see with me if I want him to say yes?"

What a dangerous question.

Sam could simply not answer- just tell Cas that Dean wasn't the kind of guy to go to movies with other guys. Or he could tell the truth and set Dean up on a little date of his own.

Just like Dean had done for him.

"Something with explosions. He likes action movies." Sam said, knowing that this wasn't exactly fair to Cas, but at the same time- he was an adult. He could figure out he was barking up the wrong kind of tree all on his own. "And offer burgers beforehand. I've never seen him turn down food."

"Explosions and food." Cas repeated the recipe to himself. "Alright." He gave Sam such a sweet smile that the younger man almost felt guilty about what he was doing.

"Uncle Cas?" Sarah asked from where she was half asleep against her uncle. "The movie's done. Can we have pie?"

"Well," he looked around the room for an answer, sort of shrugging at Sam. "I'll let Hannah sleep but should we wake Dean?"

"Let me tell you a secret about my brother." Sam kept his voice low and secretive. "If pie is involved, the answer is always _yes_."

They joined the other adults downstairs, leaving the smallest child upstairs to continue her nap, as was appropriate etiquette when dealing with small children Sam learned. Dean looked a bit bleary eyed, but very pleased to sit down at the table with a large piece of apple pie all to himself.

Sam sat beside his brother and made polite conversation with Gabriel of all people.

The man was a little more forward than Sam was used to, but at the same time he was very open and enthusiastic, and it was too soon to tell if that was a good thing or not. So they spoke of Stanford, and some of the teachers that they shared and the weird layout of the English department, a handful of other odds and ends. Even if Sam wasn't all that good at making small talk, Gabriel seemed to have no problem taking control of the conversation, steering it around to wherever he saw fit.

The backdoor opened in the other room and Nick came into the dining room, a small piece of pumpkin pie on his plate. His cheeks were a little red from the cold ocean breeze outside, but his eyes were clear and the anger was gone. He sat down beside Rehka, because Gabriel had stolen his seat on the other side of Sam, and he leaned into his sister-in-law, whispering something in her ear before earning himself a slap on his arm and a soft laugh.

The younger Winchester looked over at Nick, offering a hesitant smile and to his surprise, the man smiled right back, mouthing something that looked an awful lot like the word 'sorry'.

Sam just rolled his eyes, because really, there was nothing that had happened that the man needed to apologize for.

Not long afterwards, they were packing up the few remaining pieces of pie and Castiel was hugging his siblings and their wives, bidding them all a cheerful goodbye, promising to be back for Christmas.

Nick was much quieter about his farewells, kneeling beside his nieces, getting little kisses on his stubbled cheeks and tight hugs around his neck. He thumped his nephew on the shoulder and they traded a manly look before Nick stood and kissed both his sister-in-laws, telling that would see them in the spring- which to Sam seemed unnecessary. He could have just said goodbye, but it was like he wanted to specifically emphasize that he wouldn't be coming back in a month like he had been asked to.

He never even looked at Michael, and Gabriel got as little as a begrudging one armed hug and what looked to be a whispered threat pressed into his cheek with words too soft to hear over the general noise of everyone else talking. Gabriel looked a little shocked before laughing happily and patting his big brother's chest.

All in all, Sam wished that he wasn't paying so much attention to what Nick was doing. There was no reason for it. But there he was, in the back of the group, beside Dean, just watching the man interacting with his family. It was weirdly voyeuristic and he made himself look away, feeling too much like he was invading on something personal that he hadn't earned a right to yet.

He smiled a tight lipped smile at Dean, sort of a 'yep, we're still here, and not part of this'. Dean just kind of nodded and shrugged in agreement. But it was too soon because Anna chose then descended on the brothers, pulling them both down, one at a time, into a warm, pleasant smelling hug.

"It was wonderful to meet you boys. And the pie was absolutely delicious." She grinned brightly up at Dean, arms still around him and by the overly pleased look he was wearing, Dean didn't seem to mind. "And if you boys don't have plans for Christmas you're welcome to join us."

"Oh, we couldn't do that." Dean said with an apologetic smile.

"Nonsense." She shook him slightly before letting go and stepping back to join her husband's side. "Castiel told me that all your family is back East somewhere and if you boys stay here in California then you're invited over for dinner. The holidays are about family and friends. Even new friends."

"Especially new friends." Nick said soft enough that Sam wasn't sure anyone else heard him. He looked over at the blonde man in time to earn himself a little half smile and Sam didn't know what it was supposed to mean.

Final farewells and the four men made it out into the falling dusk. It was jarring after the light and warmth of the house, all there was now were heavy clouds tinged with bits of orange and red from the setting sun and the bitter cold gusts coming off the ocean. They piled into the car and Castiel cranked up the heat, warming his hands on one of the vents before starting back on the road that would take them to the highway.

"Hey, Sammy-" Dean peered around his head rest into the backseat. "How's about you cleaning the kitchen for me when we get home since I made you that nasty pie you enjoyed so much?"

"I was going to go over to Nick's to study again tonight." Which was a great way to get out of doing dishes.

"I thought you were going to lay off the books for today." Dean complained, but Sam could tell from his tone that his big brother was already giving up on him.

"I said I wouldn't bring my books to dinner. I never say I wouldn't study today."

"You're so lame." He turned back to look out the windshield. "And you can study at home. I'll keep the music down."

Sam did his best to not look over at the man sitting beside him, not wanting to look too guilty. "That's alright. There's less distractions at Nick's."

Dean seemed to chew that idea over for a bit before slowly saying, "_Right_… less distractions."

"He doesn't even own a television." Castiel piped up, vouching for his brother. "I used to go over there to study during the holidays when campus was closed."

"You're supposed to be on my side." Dean grumbled, folding his arms and looking sullen.

"I thought that we wanted them to spend time together… if that's what they want." He added quickly, eyes darting to the rearview mirror to peek into the backseat. "I'm not trying to say that-"

"We get it, Cas." Nick said softly, soothing his younger brother's anxiety. "It's ok. Really."

"Really?" Castiel's eyes flicked back to them.

"Really." Sam confirmed with a smile.

Dean got dropped off at the house and Sam ran inside to grab his book bag with promises that he would do dishes when he got home later that night. He tried to rush back out, not wanting to keep Castiel waiting, but his big brother stopped him from leaving, leaning against the door frame, barring any escape.

"Come on, Dean. Nick'll give me a ride home later." Sam shouldered his bag, sighing.

"It's gunna' rain tonight. You really plan to let him take you back here in the dark on that bike?"

"It'll be fine, and if it's raining I'll just stay the night again."

The muscles in Dean's jaw tightened. "Course you will."

Sam blinked rapidly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just… dude, you met the guy two weeks ago and you're already staying the night at his place. If it was anyone else I would congratulate them. But this is you, Sam. Don't you think this is moving a bit... you know… fast for you?"

"Whoa now." Sam held up his hands, palms out. "Let's pretend for one second that you didn't set me up on a date with this guy. Let's also pretend, just for good measure, that you didn't send me a text that same night telling me to get my 'freak on' with him- which I believe were you're exact words. All that aside_, no one_ said that there's anything like that going on between us."

"I've seen the looks you've been giving each other."

"We haven't been… what looks?"

"Oh, there's been looks."

"Neither of us are even remotely _gay_." Sam tried to clarify, not sure how defensive he was supposed to be getting- reminding himself that this kind of argument flew in the face of his and Nick's plans. Too much denial would make for an awkward transition later.

"I'm not either. But if I was… gay, and wasn't your brother, I'd… I'd hit that."

Sam thought that he managed to make some kind of useless noise, mouth hanging open between shock and confusion.

"Even if the guy's straight, Sammy, he's not blind." How Dean could manage to make these bizarre arguments with such a straight face had always been a puzzlement to Sam.

"God- do you realize how insane you sound, Dean?"

"I just don't think you should be jumping into something with a guy you don't know."

"You set me up on a date with him!" Sam felt his voice rising along with his frustration.

"That was supposed to be a one off- just someone willing to jump your gangly bones so maybe you'd be less of a tightly wound son of a bitch all the time. You weren't supposed to make friends with him and set up play dates. Next thing you know the two of you are gunna' be telling us you're engaged and I'm going to end up in-laws with that crazy ass family."

Sam took a long breath through his nose before putting his hands on his big brother's shoulders and forcibly pulling him away from the door. "Good night, Dean."

"Fine. But I've got work in the morning, so keep it down if you come home real late."

Sam waved goodbye and ran back out to the car, only slightly surprised to see that Nick had moved to the front passenger seat. So Sam folded himself into the back and sat alone. More room to stretch out anyways.

"Sorry for taking so long." He said while he buckled his seat belt. "Dean felt a need to give me 'the talk' before I left."

Nick laughed, startled but pleased.

"_The talk_?" Castiel questioned as he started back to his brother's apartment.

"The birds and the bees, Cassy." Nick explained with a grin in his voice.

Castiel got quiet, busying himself with flipping on the windshield wipers against the light sprinkle. "Birds and bees?"

"Sex." Nick clarified, and Sam was glad he did, because he was honestly too surprised that the accountant didn't understand the reference.

"Oh…" Cas glanced into the backseat. "Aren't you a bit old to not know about sex? I thought that they taught it in highschool."

"They do." Sam assured between chuckles. "I think Dean's just worried that with me being so young and naive, Nick might try to take advantage of me."

This only made Nick laugh harder, up until his younger brother shot him a stern look. "It's not funny. That's a very serious accusation, Nick. I will have a talk with Dean and explain to him that you are not that kind of person."

"Thanks for that." He patted Castiel on the shoulder, the movement almost tender, but mostly sarcastic.

Castiel pulled up in front of Nick's apartment, and put the car in park, turning in his seat to look at his brother, then back at Sam in turn. "Thank you both for coming today. It meant a lot to me… and everyone else." He tacked on, looking pointedly back at Nick.

"Don't worry about it. It was just nice to have a home cooked meal."

"It helps that Anna was cooking it." Cas said with a significant look. "You know, she'll be cooking on Christmas too. She'd probably make anything you wanted if you promised to come by."

"Don't push it." Nick warned gently.

Castiel looked away, relenting. "Good night… and good luck on your tests, Sam."

"Thanks." Sam grinned before climbing back out of the car.

The little accountant unrolled his window and called after them. "I'll drop off my spare key at the shop on Sunday."

"Got it." Nick waved. "Drive safe, Cas."

The two hoofed it up the long flight of stairs, Sam huffing a little around the third story.

"No elevator?"

"Elevators are for the weak." Nick grinned over his shoulder, not at all bothered by the long climb. "Did your brother really try to warn you about me?"

"Apparently you were supposed to be a one night stand and he's worried that we might be getting _involved_."

Nick scoffed at the idea. "Didn't he set you up with me in the first place?"

"I just don't think he was expecting it to amount to anything."

"Oh, then he is going to love this next part," Nick unlocked his door, "because I actually have every intention of taking advantage of you tonight."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Sam followed him inside, going straight for the table and settling himself in for a good bought of quality time with his textbooks.

In a seeming effort to win the 'boyfriend of the year' award, Nick made a pot of strong coffee and unbidden set a mug down beside Sam's elbow before folding himself down into the couch and quietly watching a movie on his computer. So unobtrusive and out of the way. Practically too perfect. Sam almost wished that this wasn't just a shared lie.

If Sam did plan to settle down with a guy, he would definitely want one like Nick- except maybe without the unexpected alcohol consumption or the violence towards oddly specific family members. Those parts he could pass on.

It wasn't that he was against drinking, just growing up in the same household as an alcoholic made him feel a bit skittish around people who drank for reasons other than socially. He knew from watching his dad, and occasionally Dean, that alcohol was not any kind of solution to a man's problems.

He also wasn't against arguing with family members, mostly because he wasn't a giant hypocrite. But there had been tense levels of animosity between Nick and his brothers that Sam hadn't expected and it made him uncomfortable in ways he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He found himself glancing over at the couch, at this man that he had shackled himself to for the next three months.

Nick looked up, tugging on his lip. "Yeah?"

"Nothing." Sam busied himself with his coffee, hiding behind the steam. "So, uh…" Not really sure where he was going with that so he let the idea wander off without him.

The blonde tapped his tablet screen and the movie grew silent. He sat there, watching Sam, waiting like he had all the time in the world.

"Cas and I were talking today."

"You brave man you." Nick kept a remarkably straight face.

"He said that you used to be married."

Nick got this sour look on his face, eyes suddenly darting from wall to wall, skipping over Sam. "Castiel never really learned when to keep his mouth shut."

"I'm sorry."

"eh," he waved it off. "There's not much to say about it. Lilith and I dated on and off during highschool and for a few years after that. I was almost twenty-one, she got pregnant, told me it was mine, and I tried to do the right thing so we got married." He huffed softly, still not looking at Sam as if it made the whole thing easier to tell. "So she's seven months along, goes up to Tahoe to visit her mother, and I get two letters from her. First one says that she lost the baby, second one is my half of the divorce paperwork."

"I'm sorry." Sam repeated, not knowing what else he could add to something like that.

"You said that already." Nick offered him a hint of a smile. "It was almost nine years ago, and considering how Lilith was I've never been sure that the kid was actually mine to begin with." He swung his long legs off the couch and went to the kitchen to refill his coffee.

Sam watched Nick's careful drink preparations, and all he could think for a few minutes was that the other man had to be thirty. Which wasn't horrifically old in the scheme of things. Nor was it particularly important. Certainly not enough to make Sam reconsider their arrangement or anything like that. It was just…

"Castiel said that you haven't dated anyone since then… that's a really long time."

Nick chuckled. "Just because I don't tell my brothers every time I go out, or every time someone with nice legs takes me home, doesn't mean I've been sitting around all this time moping over a crazy bitch like Lilith." He pulled out the chair beside Sam's, sitting the wrong way round, folding his arms over the back of the chair. "A girlfriend would be nice and all- but I'm already in a relationship with alcohol and bad decisions. Hardly seems fair to drag someone down with me."

"You say to your boyfriend." Sam pointed out quietly.

"You can hold your own against me." Nick scoffed. "You're a smart kid."

" 'm not a kid." He rolled his coffee cup between his hands.

Nick's knee crashed into his almost like an apology, his eyes crinkling just a touch as he blew on his own drink. "Sorry, darlin'. You're just so young and bright eyed. Sometimes I forget."

"You're supposed to be falling in love with me." Sam lectured in his most serious voice. "Please try and remember that I'm a tall, handsome, _man _that you won't be able to resist kissing tonight."

"How could I possibly forget that part?" Nick looked aghast at the mere suggestion. "Finally getting my hands on that sweet ass of yours will be the highlight of my holiday season."

Sam almost choked on his coffee and had to spit it back into his mug because it was only slightly better than spewing it all over his text books. "We agreed to a first kiss- my ass doesn't enter into this."

"Trust me, it will." Nick winked and Sam had to resist the urge to hit him because that kind of reaction worked with Dean but might not end well with Nick.

He settled for bashing their knees together hard enough that he hurt himself. "Don't you go starting anything you can't finish."

"Oh, it might take me a while, but I promise to finish every last bit of you."

Sam had enough and he almost felt sideways in his seat, doubling over. "What is- what's that even- supposed to mean?" He got out between breathless laughter.

"It's an innuendo." Nick's laugh answered his own, deeper and more restrained. "It means whatever you want it to."

"I- I don't want it to mean _anything_." Sam shook his head, trying and failing to wipe the grin off his face. "And you keep your hands to yourself."

"What a thing to say to your only boyfriend." Nick got up from that table, mock insult plain on his face. "You keep that up and you're getting nothing for me tonight." He managed to put an undue amount of sass into his walk to the couch before folding himself back down and situating his tablet back on his crooked knees.

Sam swallowed down the last bit of his laugh and shook his head again, pushing hair from his eyes. He found himself watching Nick, for what had to be the hundredth time today. And It remained an unproductive use of his time.

Like a big cat, the man had sort of folded in on himself, pale knee peeking out from a small hole worn in his left pant leg, smallest slash of hip bone visible where his t-shirt had been rucked up. The designs on his arms twisted and got lost with how they were pressed up to his chest, holding his mug comfortably against his lower lip.

For maybe just a hair longer than a second, Sam found himself watching the tip of Nick's tongue flick along the rim of his mug, and Sam's disloyal mind entertained thoughts of how the kiss that they were going to say happened would have happened.

In a panic he shoved the idea down, horrified that he had even had it.

He buried his face in his text books, letting the fine print utterly consume him, because it was safe and familiar and good and as far from that confusing daydream as he could bring himself.

One or maybe two hours later Sam's eyes were getting tired, too long looking at too small of words. He pushed his books away, rubbing his face.

He must have made a noise to draw the other man's attention because Nick's soft voice interrupted his stretch.

"You want to watch a movie with me, Sam? Or do you want a ride home?"

Sam glanced at the clock in the kitchen, almost seven thirty, before he looked out the window into the starless night with its black clouds, the quiet pattering of rain against the glass.

"It's a bit wet outside."

"I can order us a pizza. We can cuddle and try to wait out the rain." Nick offered, turning a little, making room for Sam to join him.

Sam pointedly ignored the offer to 'cuddle.' "Are any pizza places open tonight?" Holidays being what they were, most places would be closed. Sam closed his book and got up, getting one last stretch in, arms reaching high overhead, almost brushing the ceiling.

Nick blinked at him, just this slow, lazy sort of expression, eyes following the long arch of Sam's body.

"No… probably not." He looked away, back at his computer. "Let me see what I can find."

They ended up ordering India food from a restaurant down the street. The place didn't offer takeout- so after Nick called in their order the two of them took the short walk to pick it up.

Outside the rain was coming down in a persistent drizzle and the two decided to share Nick's only umbrella, walking close enough that their shoulders brushed from time to time and really quickly Sam gave up apologizing for it.

"How do you think today went?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Nick glanced up, much closer to Sam than the younger man was used to people being.

"It could have gone a lot worse." He said after some thought.

"I take it that the fighting between you two isn't anything new."

"He started it." Nick's shoulder hitched as he got defensive.

Sam pursed his lips and looked away, because saying 'you weren't helping' probably wouldn't be productive.

"Michael and I haven't… we've never really _liked_ each other, you could say."

"You seemed to get along well enough with his wife." Sam immediately regretted those words, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to form a hurried apology.

"Oh my. Is that jealousy I hear?" Nick teased, slowly spinning the umbrella between his hands.

"No. I didn't mean it like that."

"Anna knows that her husband can take things a little too far sometimes. She knows I can too- and she's been trying to keep us from killing each other since she met us. Some nonsense about if she was going to be part of our family she would make sure that there was still enough people left standing to be called a family." He pulled open the door of the Indian restaurant. "She's a good woman. A little intimidating, but good- and honestly better than my brother deserves."

Sam blinked into the florescent lights, shaking water from his hair, watching as Nick carefully folded his umbrella and nodded to the dark haired woman behind the counter. She nodded back, recognizing the man, no words exchanged as she went to get their order.

"Speaking of better than a brother deserves- I may have given Castiel advice on how to ask Dean out."

Nick made a startled noise, his eyes dancing with joy at the prospect. "Well, that's only fair I suppose."

"I thought so." Sam grinned.

The woman returned with two Styrofoam boxes settled into a take-out bag. "Here you are, Nick. Eighteen- forty-three."

Sam got out his wallet, but Nick got there first, slapping down a handful of bills.

"You paid last time."

"And I'll pay next time too." Nick said with a smirk, handing the food off to Sam. "I am the man in this relationship after all."

The woman behind the counter laughed softly, trying to hide it behind a hand as she took the offered money. "Have a good night, boys." Her dark eyes shone. "I will see you next week, Nick."

Nick shared her smile. "Goodnight, Sanjeet." He got his umbrella opened and held it up high for Sam as they started walking.

"Who says that you get to be the 'man' in this whole mess?"

"One of us has to be, and I'm older, so why not me?"

"I don't see why we aren't just both the 'men' … and besides, I'm taller." Sam argued as if it were a firm basis for anything.

"Anything over six foot doesn't count. Relationship wise, we're the same height."

"That's the dumbest rule I've ever heard." And Sam had heard plenty of dumb rules in his lifetime.

"When you're the older one you can pay for our meals- how's that?"

Sam gave one of his best bitch-faces in answer and earned himself a warm laugh.

"I'll let you hold doors open for me?" Nick added to his offer, trying to sweeten the deal.

Stubbornly, Sam kept up his scowl.

"You can be on top… sixteen percent of the time."

A laugh threatened to crawl out of Sam and he did his best to swallow it down. "Sixteen percent?"

"It's a great deal." Nick quickly pointed out. "Over the next three months we will have fake sex… why not… one hundred times? And for sixteen of those I will let you tell people that you bent me over."

"One hundred times?"

"It's about thirty times a month, so roughly once a day." Nick did some quick math. "It's a rigorous schedule, but doable."

"I don't know if you're up to it, old man." Sam's voice had gone a bit off as he rapidly lost the battle to his laughter. "We're supposed to be building a _believable_ lie."

"Hey. I'm only thirty."

"_Old_." Sam taunted, dancing away as Nick aimed a sharp shove at him. He ended up outside of the shelter of the umbrella, rain quickly soaking into his hair and the shoulders of his jacket. "I just don't think anyone's going to believe that you can keep up with me. Not with that much fake sex going around. When would we even find the time?"

"When you want someone as much as I want you, you find a way." Nick held the umbrella over Sam's head, giving him a sideways smile that had no business being out in public.

Sam stubbornly went back out into the rain. Wanting no part in this nonsense.

Nick's hooded gaze only made his words all that much worse. "Final offer- and this is the bare minimum- eight times over the next three months. That puts me on my knees once if we're going to keep up the sixteen percent ratio."

"I'm not agreeing to this." Sam stubbornly dodged parking meters and kept pace with Nick, rain water running down the collar of his jacket.

"Fine. I will throw in two fairly drunk blowjobs- but that's my final offer." Nick was amazing at keeping a straight face, as if this were the most normal business proposition ever laid out.

Sam looked up into the rain clouds, trying to fight off the heat he felt rising to his cheeks from the mere suggestion of what they were going to lie about now. It wasn't that he was a particularly shy individual. In truth, he liked to think that his body would have the same adverse reaction regardless of who was offering it such things.

Years of dealing with the regularly awkward things that Dean would say should have prepared him for something like this. Though decidedly, Nick was significantly worse to deal with than Dean. Sam's big brother was grossly inappropriate on a good day. But Nick was downright lewd. And the fact that it made Sam want to laugh instead of scaring him off like it should was probably a bad sign.

He sighed and returned to the shelter of the umbrella. "Charmer."

Nick gave another one of his soft, rolling chuckles and couldn't seem to keep eye contact with Sam, watching his mouth, then neck, and pretty much anywhere else that wasn't direct.

"It makes me a little uncomfortable just how comfortable you are with this." Sam said as they began the long climb back up to Nick's apartment.

"Oh, it's freaking me the fuck out." Nick grinned suddenly. "But I figure the more used to it I get when it's just you and me the easier it will be with other people around. Besides- I'm not the one who keeps blushing."

"I don't blush." Sam stopped on the landing between floors, taking a deep breath before trailing after Nick.

"You do. Like a teenage girl." Nick egged him on, just a few steps ahead, just out of arm's reach. "Which is the other reason why I get to be the man."

Sam managed the last flight of stairs in brooding silence, summoning a frown when he saw the other man waiting for him at the door, keys jingling in one hand. "Nothing? No come back? Does that mean you give up?"

"You are possibly the worst boyfriend I have ever had." There. He said it. So bitterly honest.

"So I win then?" Nick asked, eyebrows hitching, smile wide.

"You win." Sam mumbled, relenting because he knew he didn't have it in him to retaliate. For a moment he entertained the idea of pushing Nick against the wall, towering over him (as much as he could) and giving the man a stern lecture on how loudly propositioning him in the hallway was not welcome or wanted. But Nick was the tallest of his brothers, and undoubtedly knew that trick and he would only smile up at Sam in that infuriating way- just like he was now. And Sam would eventually just give up on the whole mess and let the man say whatever horrible things he wanted to. Nick simply didn't strike him as the sort of man who would ever actually act on his words. It was all just talk. And all those poorly crafted innuendos didn't scare Sam.

Quite the opposite actually. But he couldn't let on how much fun he was having. He was the long suffering, passive aggressive Winchester, who was often too serious for his own good. He had a certain reputation to upkeep.

The two of them pointedly did _not_ cuddle on the couch, though Nick got his crazy legs going again and ended up half sprawled over Sam's lap, a comfortable weight, a nice balance of warmth to fight the chill of the room.

They picked at their food and watched 'Lost Boys' because Nick seemed insulted that Sam had never seen it before. All in all there was too much glitter and too many vampires, but it was good in the fantastic way that movies from the eighties can be sometimes.

By the time the credits started to roll it was almost ten-thirty. Later than Sam had intended on staying. He scraped up the last bits of curry and rice before tossing the box back onto the coffee table.

"Think it's still raining?" He arched, trying to look out the kitchen window from where he sat, but it was only dark outside. No way to see more.

Nick answered by turning off the movie, closing his eyes and simply listening. Sam followed suit, and heard the hum of the heater (which had never been turned up to Sam's satisfaction), his own shallow breaths, and somewhere outside the gusting of the wind.

"I think we should be safe if you want a ride home." Nick finally announced, his legs shifting against Sam as he sat up on his elbows. "I've even got an extra helmet for you. Pulled it out of storage a few days ago."

Surprised by the gesture, Sam smiled. "Thanks."

"Well, I'm sort of invested in that pretty face of yours. Thought I should do my best to protect it." He reached out to touch Sam, tips of his fingers almost reaching the younger man's cheek- but he twisted his wrist, flicking some of Sam's hair instead.

"That's almost… sweet of you." Sam hesitated, not really sure if that was the word he was looking for.

"I am widely known to be one of the sweetest people."

Sam scoffed, pushing Nick's legs off and standing. "I doubt that."

Nick almost managed to obey the speed limit for the short drive back to the little house with the picket fences and flower boxes. The noise of the bike was oddly muffled by Sam's helmet, it made the far too fast and reckless ride almost surreal. The warm curve of the other man's back molded to his chest, and the way that the rain had waited for them to get halfway there before coming at them sideways, swept about by the wind.

The bike settled in beside the Impala, odd angle on the slightly sloping driveway and Sam stumbled off, growing less and less graceful each time he hitched a ride. He tried to find his land legs, taking the opportunity to simply stand there, swaying in the rain, while Nick tugged off his helmet. His pale eyes looked almost black out here in the dark, his smile half hidden but visible enough to be concerning.

With practiced ease, he balanced his helmet on the handle bars, nodding for Sam to do the same, looking expectant.

So, for lack of better choices, Sam pulled off his helmet as well, regretting this choice in the same instant because it had been the only thing keeping his head safe from the determined rainfall.

"It's wet." He said simply, as if it needed to be pointed out. "You want to come inside and dry off?"

"So I can come back out and get soaked again?" Nick tilted his head, sliver of porch light cutting across his face. "I'm going to pass. Besides, I don't think your brother would like me coming in."

Sam waved it off, passing the helmet between his hands. "Dean's alright. He's just a bit overly protective."

"Then it'll bother him something awful if I kiss you goodnight?"

That got Sam laughing, despite the awkwardness and the cold and the rain. "Oh yea. He'll throw a fit. I'm looking forward to telling him about it tomorrow."

"Why wait?"

There was not enough time between Nick asking, and Nick grabbing him by the collar and pulling Sam down, for the younger man to formulate a proper answer to the question. All Sam managed to do was let out a startled noise that was a bit like a yip and he dropped his helmet in favor of bracing his hands against the other man's cheeks out of self preservation.

There were only centimeters between them, close enough that they were sharing breaths, startled silver clouds ghosting between their lips.

"Nick." Sam let out a shaky warning, surprised that he managed that much through the sheer panic he felt.

"God, you're high strung." Nick tightened his grip, making fists in Sam's jacket. "I'm not going to kiss you, you big girl." He was oddly easy to understand despite the fact that the younger man had fingers pressed against his mouth. "Your brother is peeking at us through the window. He sees us like this then you don't even have to tell him anything. Which is great for you because you don't strike me as being all that good of a liar."

Sam licked his lips, logic coming in through the terror of being this close to another guy. In the dark, in the rain, a good fifteen feet back- it wouldn't matter if they actually kissed or not, because with Sam bent down over the bike, with them holding on to each other so close- what they were doing would only be too obvious to Dean.

"You could have warned me, jerk."

"And miss that beautiful noise?" One of Nick's hands slid up into his hair and it was all somehow worse for it.

Sam closed his eyes. "Just promise you won't actually kiss me."

"Can I at least lick your fingers?"

"No." Sam's eyes flew open, and they were still too close, just too close.

"Then you want to get them off my mouth?" Nick was almost as good at that wide puppy dog eyes as Sam.

Feeling more than his regular amount of stupid, Sam moved his hands to Nick's cheeks, warmth beneath his fingertips. "How long are we going to stay like this? I'm getting wet."

"Oh, darlin'." Nick got that awful grin again. "I love when you talk dirty like that."

"The absolute _worst_ boyfriend." Sam hooked an arm around Nick's neck, slowly tugging him into a choke hold, refusing to laugh at the joke.

Nick let their noses brush, punctuating his words. "I'm your _only_ boyfriend."

"Yeah, well. You're setting the bar really low." He pointed out, pulling back by inches, feeling the cold settle down around him everywhere except where he and Nick were still touching.

"How can I resist you when you talk to me like that?" His hands slid down Sam, so lightly they almost couldn't be felt, before settling on Sam's sides, just high enough to miss his hips.

"You'll just have to try a little harder." Sam advised, feeling a little more control over the situation, and honestly pleased with the whole thing. It certainly saved him from having to figure out an awkward way to lie to Dean that he'd kissed a dude.

It couldn't have gone better- that was the last thing he thought before he felt one of Nick's hands slipping to the small of his back.

"I swear to god, Nick. If you touch my ass I will bite your face." They were still close enough to make the threat viable.

Judging by the sudden twinkle in his eyes, the man looked like he was debating whether to consider Sam's words a challenge or not. His fingers wiggled ever so slightly along Sam's spine. A taunt. A tease. A threat of his own.

Sam leaned back in, mouth open, teeth bared- and Nick started laughing, almost giddy.

"He's flickering the porch light."

Sam turned in the circle of Nick's arms, looking over his shoulder to watch in fascination as the porch light flickered off then on again, repeating the impatient pattern just in case anyone missed it.

"I'd better get in before he comes out and drags us apart."

"I'll miss you." Nick almost sang as he let go of Sam.

Sam stooped down, picking back up his poor new helmet which was now scuffed and fairly moist. "Well, I can't help you with that." They shared a grin, both a little too wide and wild, finding inappropriate amounts of joy in their communal lie. "Goodnight, Nick. Drive safe." Sam added on, knowing that there was little chance of it being followed.

"Goodnight, sweet prince." He tugged his helmet back on, started his bike back up with an understated roar and rolled slowly backwards down the driveway. Almost hesitant until he was pointed back in a homeward direction, then he tore off, spray of rain water flying off the back tire.

Sam stood there, dripping wet, watching the red haze of light fading off into the gloom.

Somewhere behind him the door to the house opened.

"Get your ass in here before you drown." Dean demanded with a voice that carried quite well through the rain.

Despite the fact that no actual kissing happened, thus nothing to actually feel embarrassed about, Sam found that he couldn't look at his brother. He settled for pushing his way into the house and avoiding eye contact like a trained professional.

"That's exactly what I tried to warn you about, Sam." Dean didn't waste any time. "That's what those looks can turn into… what the hell is wrong with you? Are you _blushing_?"

"I'm- I'm not blushing." He thought he managed to get out lamely, dumping his waterlogged book bag, pulling out its contents, making sure that everything was still alright. "Nothing happened."

"I _saw_." Dean's accusation was startlingly loud. "I saw the whole damn thing."

It was so much easier to lie when all you had to do was tell an unbelievable truth. The blushing was a weird reaction that Sam had no control over, but it was still a nice touch.

"Weren't you going to bed early tonight?"

"Was that part of the plan? Was I supposed to be in bed while some guy feels up my kid brother?"

"I'm an adult, Dean." Sam thunked his books down onto the coffee table with a bit more force than needed. "And you're the one who set me up with him in the first place."

"That doesn't mean I want to see it!" Dean was good at having dramatic arm gestures.

"Then don't look."

"Sammy." But it had more whining than anger in it. "Are you two, like, _dating_ now?"

Sam had never been an actor, never was all that good at lying to his brother. He settled for kind of shrugging and making an awkward face.

They looked at each other from opposite ends of the room, all the tension leaving because after all these years they were good at picking their fights and they both knew that this one wasn't worth it.

"I don't like it." Dean finally decided aloud.

So Sam sighed and shook his head. "You don't have to. He's not going to be kissing you."

Dean's lip curled in disgust at the idea. "Just… don't put out too easy, you tramp- you'll embarrass the whole family. Try and wait til the third date if you can."

Enough was enough. "Goodnight, jerk."

Dean finally answered back, stubborn even in surrender. "Goodnight, bitch."


	6. Chapter 6

Classes wouldn't resume until Monday morning. It gave Sam three whole days to himself. This was ample time to clean the kitchen, bring lunch to Dean at work, and (of course) study. He started on a paper for his ethics class, managed a short nap and even did some laundry all by the time he reached Saturday evening.

Sam was getting ready, settling himself into the corner of the couch with his laptop on his knees and a textbook open beside him. The wifi was turned off to help him resist the distractions of the internet and he was ready to get in some quality time between him and his notes- right up until Dean came home.

The Impala's headlights spilling through the window for a moment before the garage opened. Sam marked where he was reading and waited for his brother. The rumble of the car's engines died shortly followed the door between the house and garage opening. Except there wasn't the regular greetings yelled down the hall. Dean was already talking to someone and it took Sam a moment to recognize the second voice as belonging to Castiel.

The two men came into the living room and Sam was given a set of smiles, one a little reserved, one more reckless.

"Hi kids." Sam smiled. "What are you two up to tonight?" He asked as if he didn't know, somehow very proud of himself to see the accountant standing so close to his brother.

"I needed to change, then we're gunna go get some dinner and maybe see a movie." Dean hesitated with one foot on the bottom stair. "You wanna come too, Sam?" He added as an afterthought.

Sam glanced at Dean, then at Castiel and they shared well measured look before Sam turned back to his brother. "I'm studying." He excused himself. "But you guys have fun."

Dean looked oddly happy about this news and nodded before jogging up to his room. The moment the door upstairs closed Castiel started shifting on the balls of his feet.

"Did you ask him?" Sam did his best not to smile.

"I did, and he said yes." Cas explained as if anything actually needed explaining.

"You don't waste any time, do you?"

"I'm leaving town tomorrow for a week and it didn't seem like something that I should wait to get back to do." He came to sort of hesitate on the far end of the couch, looking like he might join Sam, but at the same time like he didn't know if he wanted to. "Thank you for the advice."

"I don't want you to get your hopes up too much, Cas." Sam was struck with sudden guilt about what he had set into motion. Maybe Dean deserved a taste of his own good intentions, but Castiel really did seem like a nice guy and this might not be the nicest thing that Sam had ever done to someone.

"I know we're just friends." He tugged on his shirt sleeves, getting the most endearingly awkward smile. "But your brother makes me happy."

And Sam didn't know what to say to that, but he was spared having to respond because Dean came barreling back down stairs, clean jeans and not a spot of grease on his tshirt or jacket.

"Don't stay up too late studying, Sam." He advised as he searched himself for his keys. Finally finding them and holding them up with a soft jingle. "You'll rot your brain with all that junk."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Enjoy your movie."

"I'm serious." Dean leaned over to push at his head, messing up Sam's hair. "It's ok to take a break every now and then."

"Thanks for the advice. I will take it under firm consideration." He said to his highschool drop out of a brother.

"Call up a friend or something. Watch a movie. Steal some of my beer. Slack off for a few minutes. I just don't want to see you still sitting there with your face in that book when I get back."

It was possible that the lack of any real parental influence in their lives while they were growing up had forced Dean to overcompensate- making him an odd combination of overprotective mother, slacker brother, and supportive father all rolled into one difficult to deal with man. Sam was grateful even if it was frustrating.

"Yes, sir." Sam nodded, agreeing if only to get his brother out of the house.

"Damn right, _yessir_." He huffed and walked off to the garage mumbling to himself.

Castiel kind of shrugged at Sam and waved a self-conscious goodbye before hurrying after his friend.

Sam managed to wait almost ten minute before going and getting his phone off the charger in the kitchen where he had left it (also to help avoid distractions) and started texting Nick.

**-my brother is taking yours on a date **

**-right now**

**-this is really a thing**

Nick didn't mess around about it, he called Sam and his voice was overly loud with disbelief and amusement. "Shut up- no he isn't."

"Dean doesn't know it's a date. And your brother is all excited about it, and what did I do?"

Nick just laughed.

"I'm _serious_. He's gunna do something brave like… like kiss Dean and Dean's going to punch him."

The humor went right out of Nick. "He better not."

"Well, no…" Sam thought about his big brother, about his almost nonexistent homophobia that came and went at will, his lack of personal boundaries. "No. He wouldn't. He likes Cas too much. But Dean- he's not going to take it well when he realizes it's a date. He gets real weird about those kinds of things."

"About guys kissing him? That's an oddly specific thing to get weird about."

"It runs in the family." Sam assured, rubbing at his face. "Cas is a… he's a nice guy. I shouldn't have encouraged him."

"Aw, Sam. Are you having an attack of conscience?"

"Yes." Guilt overrode the need to study.

"I don't have any appointments tonight… want me to come over and hold your hand or something."

The short answer was 'no'.

But Sam found himself saying yes for some reason.

Half an hour later and Nick was sitting beside him on the couch, a pizza between them. And along the lines of this man making a strong showing for wining some kind of boyfriend award, Nick had also brought a book to read, because he didn't want to make too much noise in case Sam was going to be studying.

Not that he was reading his book right now, right now he was teasing Sam about the very vegetarian pizza that they were sharing.

Sam wasn't really complaining, because the food was amazing, but still…"I do eat meat you know."

"I hope so." Nick winked over his slice.

Sam rolled his eyes as hard as he could and otherwise chose not to justify whatever that was with any kind of response.

"Come on now- that one was easy. You set yourself up." His eyes crinkled on the corners as he smiled into his slice of pizza.

"I don't know why I let you in."

"I don't either." He confided between bites.

As long as neither of them knew why they were here like this. It wasn't part of the game they were playing, or at least Sam didn't think so. Perhaps he actually did just want someone to 'hold his hand', someone to sit with him while he attempted to wait out this anxiety of what he had done.

"I'm sure they'll be fine, you know." Nick said after a thoughtful pause. "Cas' never been all that good at judging what's socially appropriate, but he can hold his own."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Do you want me to give him a call, warn him to keep his mouth to himself?"

It was a tempting offer. Nick could simply tell Cas off, let him know that Dean wasn't going to take any advances well. "Maybe we should just let it happen."

"Even if you didn't give Cas a little push, he would have gone that way eventually." Nick said almost gently. "Don't beat yourself up about it. Apparently you Winchesters are just irresistible to my family."

"I wouldn't know what to do with any of your brothers. You're more than enough for me as it is."

"Aw, Sam." Nick made his name two syllables. "How sweet."

"It wasn't meant to be." Sam promised, wiping his hands on his jeans and pulling his laptop over. It was the most dismissive gesture he could manage to give in an effort to escape their conversation.

Nick made a noise of resignation and pulled out his book, understanding too well that they were done with their little back and forth. But he never argued. He did turn himself sideways on the couch, tucking his feet under Sam's leg- and there was no telling when he had managed to take his shoes off, or why his toes were so cold despite his socks, but there they were.

"Why are you so cold?" Sam found himself leaning away as much as he could manage without his laptop sliding off his knees.

"Why are you so warm?"

"High metabolism?" He suggested.

"I've always run a bit cold myself." Nick dug his toes in a little deeper between the couch and the meaty part of Sam's thigh. "Maybe we can balance each other out?"

Sam sighed, because he could already tell that this wasn't a situation that he was going to come out on top of. He settled himself in, despite the cold lumpiness now beneath his leg. To be fair, Nick wasn't any more annoying or touchy than Dean, so he should be easy enough to ignore.

And that's how they stayed until those familiar headlights passed over the window.

Sam glanced at the little clock in the corner of his laptop, rubbing at his eyes. It was almost eleven. When did it get so late?

"I guess Cas talked him into seeing a movie."

"Hmn?" Nick glanced up and Sam was startled to see that the man was not only over halfway done with his book, but had on reading glasses- because apparently Sam was really that involved with his notes and books that he never even noticed the man putting them on.

"Maybe everything went ok after all." He made himself look away, turning to peer down the hall, waiting to see Dean come in.

But Dean wasn't coming in. The engine died, but no one was opening any doors.

The waiting became a bit too much and Sam started getting antsy.

"What's he doing out there?" Nick asked, wiggling his toes.

"How should I know?" Sam closed his laptop and pushed it over to the coffee table.

Something was wrong.

"As fun as this promises to be, I have a feeling I'll only make it worse." Nick extracted himself from under Sam's leg and stood to his comfortably tall height. "You'll let me know if anyone copped a feel of anything good, right?"

Horrible mental image there. "If anything happened I'm sure that Dean won't be telling me." Dean had never been big on sharing, and it was something that Sam had never been more grateful for.

Nick fumbled his shoes on. "Well, you tell me if anything seems suspicious. I need to know if I've got to get Cas a cherry pie."

"Why would you…"

"It's got to happen one day." Nick's grin was nothing if not optimistic.

"I don't want to know." Sam put his hands up, palms out in surrender. _A cherry pie?_ "Finals start on Monday, so we'll have to put this," he nodded between them, "on hold for the next two weeks."

"On hold?" Nick stiffened. "We have our first kiss two days ago and suddenly we're going on hold? What does that even mean?"

"It means I can't come out and play until my tests are done."

"How's that going to look?"

"_Finals_." Sam insisted, because Nick didn't understand the gravity of it. "They are currently more important to me than oxygen and you'll just have to keep your hands to yourself for a while."

"You can still come over and study if you need to." Nick offered after some thought. "Just to keep up pretences."

"Can I _say_ I'm coming over? No one's going to be double checking." It would save Sam having to sacrifice time in transit from place to place if he could just stay at school between tests.

"I'll vouch for you, if that's what you want." Though he didn't sound particularly happy about it.

"Aww, are you going to miss me?" Sam teased.

"I will miss you like the stars miss the sun in the morning skies." He vowed solemnly.

Sam glanced down the hall. Still nothing and it was very possible that Dean would never come back inside. "Don't do that." He said to Nick, never taking his eyes from the door handle that didn't move.

"You never let me have any fun." Nick whined softly, brushing past Sam as he scooted between the younger man and the coffee table in his path to the door. He let out a deep sigh when he reached his very bland destination. "So… see you in two weeks?"

Sam got off the couch, because at some point someone instilled in him a need to see guests to the door and he couldn't let himself just sit there on the couch while he said 'goodbye'.

"I'll give you a call once tests are over and I've slept for a day or two." Sam promised.

Nick nodded and then followed an odd moment where they just sort of stood there within arm's reach of each other with nothing more to say.

Seemingly out of generosity, the universe saw fit to give them a distraction to their sudden unease.

Dean came in finally. From their vantage point, Sam could see directly down the hall and he watched his big brother compose himself. Rubbing at his jaw, scratching the back of his neck, straightening his shoulders. It was an elaborate but subtle dance and more than likely the nuances were lost on Nick who didn't know how to read the man like Sam did.

With one final touch of fingers to his mouth, all the while staring somewhere down around his own feet, Dean seemed to have found some kind of balance in himself. "Hey, Sammy. You still up?" He didn't talk too loud, and if Sam hadn't been looking directly at him he never would have suspected anything was off from his even, almost cheerful tone.

"Right here." Sam announced and watched as Dean jumped back a few inches, looking over at the two men with a wild expression.

"Oh, hey." He found a confidant smile within second, and it looked almost completely believable. "I thought that was your bike out front."

"Yeah." Nick's smile was easy, almost innocent. "I was just leaving." His pale eyes darted to Sam and there was something bad in that glance. "What movie did you and Cas end up seeing?"

Dean sort of shrugged. "I don't remember what it was called. There was a haunted mirror and a chick and her brother were trying to destroy it because it killed their mom."

"You took Cas to a _horror_ movie?" Nick sounded appalled at the suggestion. "He's terrified of scary anythings. Did you have to hold his hand the whole time?"

"Once or twice." Dean admitted softly, shaking his head. "You didn't let him study all night, did you?"

"Hell no." Nick's smile went wide and Sam felt uncomfortable standing between them. "I like kissing him too much to let him study. Which is incidentally why he's kicking me out."

Sam wanted to say 'no' or 'shut up' but it was a good enough lie so he let it be.

Dean managed to look vaguely nauseous and approving at the same time, which was impressive. "Alright. New rules, whatever it is you two girls decide to do to each other, I don't hear about it and it doesn't happen on my couch- or any other place where I nap or eat. And I don't want to see it."

"Fair enough." Nick agreed, ignoring the small noises of protest coming from Sam because apparently he wasn't part of the bargaining process and his input was unnecessary. "But then the same goes for you and Cas."

All of Dean tensed, his whole body going stiff for a second. "You want to run that by me again."

"I get it. Sam's your brother and some guy making him hot and bothered isn't something you want to see. But I feel the same about my kid brother."

Nick's assessment earlier had been fairly accurate. He did only make it worse.

Sam wanted to push the man out the door and tell Dean that none of that was ever said, because he could see the anger and denial and everything else unnamable and volatile wash over his brother and Sam knew that there was very little time to salvage this.

"If you're still hungry, there's pizza on the coffee table." Sam smiled at Dean, giving the best peace offering he could come up with on such short notice as he actively started to push Nick towards the door. He leaned into the blonde and bore his teeth. "Go home." A clean and concise threat hidden under that whisper. "I'll call you in two weeks- if you're lucky."

Unimpressed jerk that he was, Nick only grinned, looking oh so pleased with himself and the trouble that he had cause with only a few misplaced words. He leaned in and before Sam could stop him the man kissed his cheek.

"Good night, Sam. Study hard." Warm undertones to his voice that prickled along Sam's skin in an unwelcome way.

"Good night." He tried to keep up that forceful tone but it had lost most of its bite.

As partings went it was a little lacking.

Once the door closed Dean found his voice. "I don't like him."

"He's…" Sam searched for some kind of defense for Nick and found himself coming up short. "I've really got to get back to my books."

"Dump him, Sam." Dean suggested, going to investigate the pizza and he scowled at it and its lack of meat. "You can do better."

"I like him." That was all Sam had to offer his brother in way of an argument. It wasn't great- but it was true.

And that kind of surprised him.

.:.

Three days later saw Sam on the near end of a nervous breakdown. He had barricaded himself into one of the study rooms in the lower levels of the school library, back where they keep all the old reel to reels, millimeter films, and other things that hadn't been used in the last twenty years or so but no one had bothered to toss out.

As per etiquette, if you managed to find a closet not stacked high with canisters then you claimed it as your own and threatened any invaders to your territory with bodily harm. Sam had locked himself in about an hour after his first test of the day ended, in an effort to have the quiet that he needed to rewrite the last chunk of an essay he had due that night.

For possibly the fifth time since he had claimed the room he heard the door handle rattle behind him.

"Taken." He said without turning around- but he didn't need to say anything. There was a window in the door, specifically so people could look in and know it was in use and _not_ knock on the doors and disrupt people who were trying to study.

Wouldn't it be amazing if people bothered to actually look before knocking?

He rubbed at his face, then his neck, wishing that the tables were a bit taller so he wasn't hunched down around his laptop, but beggars can't be choosers and he was just lucky to have found a room.

The door rattled again, annoying, tapping little knocks like they were doing it on purpose.

Sam turned, half climbing up out of chair, and was horrified to see Nick's sleepy blue eyes peering at him through the little window.

"Oh, for the love of god."

Nick saw that Sam saw him and the man gave a big smile and a waggle of fingers.

Though Sam could have opened the door, all he did was stare. Too confused at the apparition to do anything.

Nick lightly kissed the glass between them.

Slowly, Sam turned back to his laptop, because no. Just plain and simple. No.

"Sam-" Nick's voice was muffled through the door, barely more than a whisper. "_Sam_. I missed your face. Let me in."

For what it was worth, Sam was able to stubbornly ignore Nick up until the man started singing to him. If he made too much noise he would disturb the other students studying and get himself kicked out. The librarians might send Sam with Nick.

It wasn't worth the risk and he got up and popped the simple lock on the handle.

"Shut up and get in here before you get us both in trouble."

Nick just smiled that smile of his and sauntered in like he had every right to be here- which he didn't.

Sam closed the door and leaned against it, taking a slow breath. He wanted to make some accusation, or at least demand to know what Nick needed, but all those thoughts left, replaced with the singular notion that Nick smelled amazing.

He smelled like roast beef and spicy mustard and- and Nick produced a crumpled paper bag from his coat and held it aloft.

"Is that…?"

"I had to call Cas and get your brother's number, then had to call your brother, get him to actually answer the phone at work, and tell me what you wanted for lunch." He handed the bag to Sam like a sacred offering. "Apparently this is your favorite, non plant thing to eat. I couldn't live with myself if I brought you a salad."

"I… you have to go all the way to Pacifica to get these." He took the sandwich that had to have been made at a little diner he knew so well near the ocean, the little red logo on the bag told him as much. He and Dean had found the place two summers ago during a fortuitous beach trip. The damn sandwiches had to have been made with something more profound, and possibly sinister, than simply bread and meat and cheese, because even after all this time, Sam still inexplicably craved them every few weeks. Just the smell alone was making it hard to think.

"I drove fast. It should still be warm." Nick sat himself down on the edge of the desk, crossing his ankles and arms, looking positively smug with all that he had done.

"We aren't allowed to have food in here." Sam was positively drooling, but rules were rules.

"I won't tell if you won't." He promised.

And that was enough incentive for him. Sam sat back down and got halfway through the sandwich, and deep fried zucchini (Dean knew him well, or Nick was just that good at guessing), before his got his train of thought back on its tracks.

"How did you even find me down here?"

"I asked around if anyone had seen a depressed looking giant with a boy-band-haircut and shoulders like a musk ox." Nick stole a zucchini slice and looked pensive as he chewed. "Almost everyone's so busy with their faces in their books that they missed seeing you- except one perky little redhead. She said you held the doors open for her in the stairwell. She was going up, you were going down. She wanted to know if you were seeing anyone, and maybe could I give her your number. I told her thank you, and yes, and no- in that order."

"You know- I'm sure you were speaking clearly, but I have no idea what you just said to me."

Nick chuckled. "You brother said you've been a bit of a mess since finals started."

This was not particularly new news to Sam. Dean had been quite verbal in expressing his concern over Sam's mental health over the last few days. He was honestly starting to worry about himself as well.

"I'm going to run away from home and becoming a highwayman." He took another bite, chewing a bit before speaking again. "Highwaymen don't have to take finals or write papers."

"I think you'll find a shortage of stagecoaches to rob in this part of the country. It's not going to be a profitable occupation." Nick watched Sam chewing. "Is it really _that_ good?"

"I'm considering marrying this sandwich. I will be Mrs Sandwich. You're not invited to our wedding."

Nick very gently touched the bend of Sam's elbow, tugging at his arms and moving the sandwich away from its comfortable eating distance. "Your brother is worried about you, and I think I might be too."

"I'm ok. I've got food." Had he remembered breakfast this morning? Maybe not. Oh, but it was a good sandwich.

"Can I have a bite?"

Sam looked at his food, then at the man who wanted to take it from him… but Nick had also brought the food in the first place, so it complicated things. Reluctantly, he held out the sandwich and watched warily as Nick took a generous bite.

Nick's eyes rolled back, closed, as he slowly chewed. "God, I should have gotten two."

Sam reclaimed his food, keeping it close and safe, wanting to savor the last few bites. "How do you drive all that way and not get yourself something to eat?"

"The goal of today was to bring you food." He shrugged, lazy expression, though he was now watching Sam's last bit of food vanishing away with little, hungry bites. "I'm a one thing at a time kind of guy."

Digging in the bottom of the bag, Sam found some napkins and he wiped at his hands and mouth. "I would tell you to stop buying me food- but anytime at all that you get the idea to bring me one of those sandwiches- just do it. I won't complain."

Nick's smile was the only answer he gave.

It was good enough for Sam.

He felt almost bad when it was time to chase the man off- but those paragraphs weren't going to write themselves. His hands felt too big and awkward on Nick's shoulders as he literally had to get behind him and push to get him moving towards the door.

"But I miss you."

"It's only been three days- and I told you that I would be busy until the end of next week. You're going to just have to pine for me." Even after the heavenly lunch, Sam just didn't have the energy to joke around like this.

"Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?" Nick arched against Sam's pushes, looking over his shoulder and fighting the leaving momentum.

"No." Sam said firmly.

"Not even for luck?"

"Not even for a sandwich."

"But I love you."

"No you don't."

"No. I don't. But-"

"Goodbye, Nick." Sam gave one last, firm, shove. "I'll call you when finals are done. We can go see a movie or something."

"I'm going up to the Bay next weekend. Come with me?"

"Why?" Sam felt what at this point was a fairly well earned suspicion.

"I've got some things to do and thought the company would be nice."

"_Things_?" Sam was still pushing but there was less force now.

"Getting two of the pegs on my violin fixed, concert, touch up on one of my tattoos."

"Oh." The majority of Sam's mental processes were wholly devoted to that essay sitting on his laptop. Sure he could go with Nick. Tests would be done. It might be nice to get out of Stanford for a bit.

"I think I'd like that." It was probably ok to let himself get a little excited at the prospect of a light at the end of the test tunnel.

"You're upsettingly adorable when you smile." Nick patted Sam's cheek. "I think I might keep you." He kept his hand against Sam's skin, long fingers and standing far too close. "Do well on your tests. Make us proud."

Sam laughed, turning away, not sure what to say to that anymore than he was sure why he felt oddly embarrassed about the whole thing.

.:.

Ringing.

There was an obnoxiously loud ringing that just wouldn't stop. Sam rolled over in bed, fumbling for his stupidly bright phone, shielding his eyes while he tried to find the 'accept' button.

"Yeah?" The fact that he had not actually been gargling with glass before bed was not at all evident in his voice and he had to cough a few times and try again.

"Hey, Sam."

That voice… he should know that voice. There was something familiar to it.

"Sorry for calling so late. I-"

"Nick?" Sam pressed his forearm to his eyes, trying to push back the sudden headache he felt coming on. "God. What time is it?"

"Almost four."

"Why?" Sam half sobbed. It was a Wednesday and he had suffered through the first week of finals, the second week starting with a particularly painful Law examine yesterday afternoon and he had another one that promised to be just as bad, if not worse, in about four hours.

"Can I come over?"

"I'm sleeping, Nick." Sam wasn't going to cry. Really he wasn't. It just felt like it. "I am literally sleeping right now. And you can take a flying leap off the nearest go fuck yourself bridge and leave me alone because I've got to get up in three hours and take another test."

"The power's out in my apartment building." The man said quickly, pleading, before Sam could hang up on him. "I can see my breath. Please, Sam. I just need a couch somewhere that's not freezing cold."

Sam's brain took a moment to catch up as he rolled to glare at his alarm clock. "Text me when you get here. If you ring the doorbell and wake Dean I will have to make him wait in line to murder you and he doesn't like having to wait."

Nick made some noise like a thank you, but Sam was already hanging up, rolling over on his phone and promptly falling back asleep. All too soon, his phone started vibrating under his cheek- which was a horrible way to wake up. He didn't even bother reading the text, just pulled himself to his feet and stumbled as quietly as he could down stairs.

The lock, as well as the door handle fought him, and he may have fallen back asleep briefly because when he opened his eyes (not even remembering having closed them) he was cold, standing in a frosty draft with his forehead pressed to the door. Nick was beside him, hand on his shoulder, saying something soft and forgettable.

"You're wet." Sam pointed out as Nick took the door, closing and locking it.

"It's raining." Nick shadowy silhouette started to struggle out of its jacket. "And there's sleet and I can't feel my hands or toes at this point."

"I'll borrow you some dry clothes." Sam started pawing his way back upstairs in the dark, familiar enough with the layout of the house that he knew where to go even with his eyes drifting back closed.

Nick followed somewhere behind him, or at least Sam was fairly certain that that's what the quiet and clumsy sounds meant.

They made it to his room and with likely good intentions, Nick found the light switch and bathed them both in painfully sharp light. Sam hissed and whimpered, covering his eyes and hating himself for answering his phone when Nick called. He could be sleeping right now. He could.

"Sorry." The man apologized, dousing the lights. "Sorry."

As quiet as he could, so as not to somehow wake his brother who was sleeping just down the hall, Sam dug through his dresser and found some flannel pants and a sweat shirt. He pushed them into Nick's hands and before the man could say anything else, Sam also found the towel he had used that evening after his shower and he handed that over as well.

"Thanks." Nick took him all with such sincere gratitude. "Where's an extra blanket?" He was already edging back towards the room's only door, obviously wanting to get out of the way.

A few minutes ago such a question would have been boggling, but Sam had been upright and having to make coordinated choices for too long, his brain starting to catch up with his body. "Blankets? Dean… he took the extra ones last night." It seemed like each night was getting colder and colder as they entered the full and promising embrace of winter.

"That's ok." Nick said gently. "I'll just-"

"Dry clothes first." Sam instructed as the foremost order of business even as he was crawling back into bed. "You get the left side. Any efforts to keep me from sleeping- and I swear to god I will smother you with a pillow." There was no way to tell how the man was taking his instructions because Sam's was already settling so perfectly into his beautiful, welcoming bed.

He stirred on the edges of sleep, coming back to himself as the far side of the mattress dipped.

"Thanks." Nick repeated for possibly the millionth time, ignoring the fact that Sam wanted no gratitude. Only sleep.

"G'night." Sam mumbled into his pillow, shying away slightly as the mass of cold that was Nick came to rest beside him.

"Sam?"

He would kill Nick. He really would. And no one would consider it anything other than justifiable homicide at this point.

"Do I get a goodnight kiss?"

"I hate you." Sam growled sleepily. "You suck and I hate you."

"Is that a no?"

Nick's cheeks were just as cold as promised and Sam did his best to keep the contact as brief as possible while he clumsily grabbed the other man and pulled him over enough to find his mouth and kiss him. Just a rough, dry press of lips, short and to the point- before angrily rolling over.

"Now good fucking night."

Nick didn't say goodnight back.

But Sam was already asleep, so he didn't really notice.


	7. Chapter 7

What felt like only seconds later, but was actually a little more than three hours, Sam's alarm clock went off loud as a klaxon, jarring him to wakefulness. He tried to find the button, slapping at the stupid thing to make the bad sound stop.

It was hard to move and at first he chalked it up to sleep heavy limbs, but it was worse than that. Much worse than that. Someone was in his bed with him- which was a very abnormal thing to happen to Sam even on the best of mornings.

There were arms around his chest and the weight of a whole other human body against his right side, pinning him down. But the extra person wasn't soft in the right places. The arms were too well muscled. The chest too flat. It's not that Sam was complaining, but he really would have preferred a blonde of a different gender.

He didn't remember letting Nick in - and there was a few hard seconds of utter and complete alarm accompanying the notion that the man had just invited himself into Sam's bed. When and how and most importantly _why_?

Nick shifted against him, stirring slightly at all the movement and noise, before mumbling something incoherent and warm into the younger man's throat. And Sam was about ready to throw Nick because this was way too close and wholly unasked for- but tentatively, the slightest memory of letting Nick into the house last night returned to Sam. He had been almost completely asleep at the time, but at some point in the wee hours he had opened the door and given the man something dry and warm to wear along with a corner of mattress and some blanket.

Nick had certainly managed to spread himself out and settled in before sunrise.

But there were more important things to think about now. He had a test in about an hour.

Untangling himself would have been easier if the blonde didn't sleep like a sack of bricks. It was like trying to move a corpse, one that was still warm and breathing softly along Sam's throat.

Ok, maybe not as much like a corpse. But Sam wasn't thinking too clearly yet.

He got up, threw all excess blankets over the still sleeping Nick, quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a few layers of various lengths of shirts, grabbed his backpack and hurried to school.

His second to last test of the semester was a testament to his teacher's sadism, comprising of a sixteen page fill in the blank exam, complete with two short essays, and Sam left school feeling blindsided and drained. He made his way back home on foot, not bothering to call his brother for a ride, because he wanted the quiet time to decompress after such an awful morning. Dean would want to talk and Sam was fairly certain he had already used up his daily quota of words.

If it wasn't for the horrible weather it would have been a relaxing walk. If nothing else he had the biting cold to think about and that was simple and clean and not at all academic.

It was just starting to rain again when he jogged up to the porch and secretly he was relieved to see that the Impala as well as Nick's bike weren't in front of the house anymore. The 'boyfriend' was practically more trouble that he was worth, and Sam just didn't have the energy to deal with him right now. Maybe in a few days after that last test was done. When he felt human again.

He thought that he would have the house to himself for a few hours until Dean got off work- Sam hadn't even considered that his big brother would have taken the car into the garage, or that he would have made room for Nick to pull his bike in beside the Impala to keep it out of the rain. Sam had been so relieved at his perceived good luck to make such considerations and when he opened the door to find Nick and Dean sitting pretty beside the fireplace, with coffee and beer respectively, he was struck by how unfair life really was.

Sam weighed the very tempting possibility of simply closing the door and walking away. He could just run away from home and not deal with whatever _this_ was.

"Heya, Sammy!" Dean pointed his bottle at a startled Nick who was innocently sipping on his coffee. "Did ya' know that your boyfriend's got a '69 Shelby?"

_Boyfriend?_ Last time Dean had mentioned Nick it had been with far more colorful names attached. Apparently some kind of manly bonding had been undertaken since the early hours of the morning, and a level of truce had been reached.

Never taking his hand from the door Sam did his best to collect his thoughts, assessing the odd situation before him. "By how happy you are about it, I'm guessing that a Shelby is either a car or a sex doll?"

Nick started choking on his coffee, laughing and setting his mug down in favor of covering his mouth.

Dean grinned without a glimmer of shame. "You guessed right. Now close the damn door. You're letting all the warm out."

Sighing in resignation, Sam, finally took the last few steps inside and locked up behind him. "It _is_ a car- right?" He needed the clarification for sanity sake if nothing else.

"Yes, it's a _car._" Dean explained because Nick was still chuckling to himself and he couldn't seem to take a long enough break to form an answer.

"That's good to know." Which was the god's honest truth. Sam didn't want to think about the two men sitting around a fire, drinking and talking about anything other than cars. Cars were safe. At least safer than the alternative.

Then the whole thing struck him. "Wait, Nick- you own a car?"

He nodded, still laughing.

"They why are you driving a motorcycle in the rain?"

"Because my car is a princess and I can't take her out in weather like this."

Sam looked at Dean for some kind of acknowledgement that that was an insane thing to say- that driving a bike in the rain wasn't worth protecting a car. But Dean was nodding along in complete agreement as if were the only logical choice and he commended Nick for making the sacrifice in order to spare a car from getting a little wet.

It was always nice to see two people with the wrong priorities in life finding each other. Sam just hadn't realized that when he had agreed to date Nick he had actually been picking himself up a second Dean. One had been plenty. Thanks.

He was about to add something sarcastic and concise, still not quite able to summon up any complex sentences but he dimly absorbed the fact that Nick was still wearing the clothes he must have borrowed last night and Sam lost whatever words he had been looking for.

The pants could have been anyone's, ugly grey and green stripes, but the sweatshirt... the logo from Sam's old highschool back in Kansas was faded and peeling from the well worn, red sweatshirt. Without even being able to see, he knew that the back said 'Winchester'. It had been Sam's soccer sweatshirt and Dean had chipped in to help him buy it senior year. His varsity number had been lucky thirteen and according to his big brother that meant something significant and they couldn't pass up the chance to commemorate it with official clothing.

It wasn't that seeing Nick in his clothes was particularly noteworthy other than that is somehow triggered a more clear memory of last night. For the briefest of seconds Sam had lingered last night, debating if he was willing to let someone wear his school sweatshirt, if it would even fit Nick. Then Sam had curled up in his warm, soft bed, and Nick had joined him like the man sized ice cube that he was. Careful, but flawed little memories of the night before. Something else had happened after Nick had joined him. Something that…

Oh God.

Sam felt his eyes go wide and his breath stick in his throat- because that man sitting there cross legged, attempting to sip at his coffee despite the fact that he was still chuckling a little too hard- last night… last night that man's mouth had been pressed against Sam Winchester's and that wasn't something that any other man in the world could make a claim to.

There were stupid things to do- and then there were horrifically stupid things to do.

Honestly, he had just wanted some sleep and shutting Nick up looked to be the only way to get there.

Maybe Sam had been accused of being a morning person once or twice- but that was _mornings_. He could wake up wide eyed and ready to face that day. Nights were a different story all together.

All Winchester men made the worst choices imaginable in the middle of the night. It was like all their common sense went to sleep long before the rest of them did. And as such, the right to make any kind of life altering choice should be taken away from them between the haunting hours.

John's midnight exploits were too numerous to bother mentioning.

Dean could boast a tattoo that Sam had only seen once due to its indelicate location, as well as a three hour marriage to a show girl named Trixy (or Tina or Trinity… something like that) in Las Vegas about two years back. No alcohol had been involved in either of those beautiful choices. Just a stunning lack of sleep to aide in the decision making process.

And Sam wasn't much better. There was once, at almost one in the morning, after a double feature at the drive-in, in the Impala that he had borrowed without permission, Sam lost his virginity with a long legged Junior who had been on the track team. She had also been dating a very sturdy senior named Trevor at the time and incidentally the next night Sam found himself in a very impressive fist fight with the guy during their soccer game and they both were threatened with suspension.

There were plenty of other things that Sam had done wrong over the years between sun set and sun rise. Last night however felt like the cherry on the top of all those lovely mistakes.

Some of that dawning realization must have shown on his face because Dean was stumbling to his feet, brotherly concern radiating from him. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." He answered a bit too quick, suddenly unable to look at either man. "I'm going to go get something to eat." An easy excuse and he was out of the room, hiding in the shelter of the kitchen. He shuffled through the cabinets, coming up with three practically empty boxes of cereal and all the crumbs and flakes got dumped into a single bowl. It wasn't that Sam was actually hungry- he just _needed_ something to do with himself that didn't involve painstakingly going over every little moment of the short, passionless kiss from last night.

He was digging the carton of milk from the back of the fridge when someone spidered their fingers up his spine, and Sam jumped, trying to get away so fast that he smacked his head on the freezer handle. Cradling his suddenly wounded skull, he slunk back, pressing against the fridge then the counter sort of rolling away from the man behind him.

"Oh, darlin'- are you alright?" Nick was chuckling again, such a pleasant, soft noise, more like a good humored sigh than anything else. "Are you always this high-strung, or did I just meet you at the wrong time?"

Sam stayed half crouched, knees bent and leaning heavily on the counter as he felt his hair for blood- certain that there would be some even though he hadn't hit his head hard enough. "Are you trying to kill me?" He peered at Nick through watering eyes.

"No. But I'm starting to agree with your brother, you don't look like you're doing ok."

"Of course I don't look _ok_. I need stitches, you jerk."

Nick rolled his eyes and forcibly grabbed Sam's head, pushing fingers through his hair, feeling an impressive bump that was already forming. "You don't need stitches, you big girl."

Sam looked up at the man, their fingers touching, brushing together, Nick pushing hair from Sam's eyes. "Too close." He said weakly.

It was hard to say if Nick remembered last night the same way. If he felt the same nerve wracked anxiety over what happened- or if he just felt equally alarmed with their proximity. His eyes caught Sam's and a certain level of unease shifted through him as he took a generous step back. "It was a bit close, wasn't it?"

Though he had to do it with more care than normal, Sam ran a hand through his hair, shaking out the lingering feeling of a stranger's touch. "Nick. Last night-"

"Thanks for letting me come over." The man said clearly and firmly, never taking his gaze from Sam. "I was going to die of hypothermia if I stayed in that apartment."

Sam pulled himself up to his full height, needing the greater altitude to give him courage. "So, uh…did you sleep alright then?" He would happily pussyfoot around the topic, touching on easier things instead.

"You're like my own private space heater." Nick showed his teeth in something that almost resembled a grin. "It was fantastic."

"Good." Sam said softly, looking anywhere other than at Nick. "About the… last night…" How do you approach a subject like this? "Did you know, students in the midst of finals have been known to suffer from mild psychotic breaks from time to time. It's the stress." He cleared his throat. "We can't be held accountable for things that we do in the middle of the night during a sleep deprived breakdown while in the company of bad men."

"Bad men?" Nick made one of those wounded noises that he did so well, hand to his chest in a perfect picture of martyrdom. "Are you insinuating that _I_ am a bad man?"

"You know what you are."

Nick hummed in something like approval or agreement, before getting the milk out for Sam and closing the fridge. "I'm about as innocent as the devil himself- but that was _all_ you last night."

"You provoked me… and I was asleep."

"You didn't taste asleep."

"I didn't _taste_ like anything." Sam felt heat creeping up his neck and he took the milk from Nick, pouring it into his bowl and making breakfast soup. "And if you thought that was a kiss then you've obviously been alone at lot longer than you're admitting to."

"Well, maybe it lacked a certain level of… passion or-"

"Or anything at all." Sam shook his spoon at Nick to make his point.

Nick laughed again. "You want me, Sam- it's ok to admit it."

Sam smacked the man firmly in the chest with his spoon before plopping himself down at the table to eat. "I want you like I want another hole in my head."

"Hey now. Ixnay on the ostilityhay." Nick hissed the pig latin softly through his teeth, nodding sharply towards the living room where they had left Dean.

He had a point. Even during a 'break' it was important that they keep up some level of appearance. Especially when one of their brother's was within ear shot. Pushing all hostility aside, Sam reached deep and found sarcasm to take its place.

"I'm just stressed. Sorry, _Luci_."

Nick's expression went from one of mild amusement to a mix of shock and exasperation. "Oh, you're asking for it, darlin'."

"You know I didn't mean to snap at you." Sam held his arms out, looking up at Nick who was looming over him like a pale storm cloud. "Come here. Let me make it up to you."

"You don't want me coming down there right now."

It was true. If Nick fell into his arms Sam would literally have no idea what to do with him. He dropped the offer as if it had never been. "If you're not going to forgive me can I at least eat my cereal?"

Nick slunk to one of the kitchen chairs, turning it around and resting his chin on the high back. One of his long arms looped around so he could tug on his lip, biting the edge of his thumb and looking thoughtful. "If I decide to forgive you… can it be on the mouth?"

Sam took a few hearty bites of his already soggy flakes before answering in a tired voice. "Not in the kitchen."

"That's alright." Nick's long fingers trailed up Sam's arm, prickling the short hairs, giving the younger man goose bumps. "I can think of quite a few other places that I'd rather kiss you."

"I'm sure you can." Sam pulled his arm away. They were talking so low and soft, in all likelihood Dean wouldn't even be able to hear them. Where was the reason behind all this touching and teasing? What was it for?

The simple answer was that it was for fun.

The stress of the last two weeks, the recoiling mortification at what he had done last night, it seemed less now with the soft, early afternoon sunlight coming in the window, and good simple food in his stomach. Good company at his side. An overly protective brother who was notably giving him space- and it must have been hard on Dean to not be there, not to be the one checking on Sam. Hard to give the responsibility to someone else just this once.

Dean had to really like Nick to give him such a vital responsibility.

It must have been some nice car.

Sam stirred his soupy cereal, watching the flakes circle the chipped ceramic bowl, because it was easier than watching Nick. In truth just about everything was easier to look at because Sam found it increasingly difficult to keep a straight face around the man. "Last night though…" He started in a careful voice, trying to figure out where and how he was going with this.

Did he want to apologize?

Did he want to blame Nick for it?

Nick flapped a hand dismissively. "Look- I figure this whole thing is some pretty fucking treacherous paths we're treading. I'm just putting my feet where you put yours and hoping that the floor doesn't give out under us." Nick had such a lovely, if not particularly subtle way of putting things. He touched Sam again, lightest brush of fingertips tracing the pale blue veins that ran along the back of his hand. "You were tired. I pushed you a bit too far and you pushed back. We had a misstep, but no harm done and I learned my lesson."

"Did you?" Sam asked curiously, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"I did. I learned that I shouldn't ask you for things that I don't want because if you're mad enough you might actually give it to me."

Sam laughed. "I wasn't mad. I was tired." There was a subtle difference, though the two sometimes went hand in hand.

"Either way. And just so you know, you're an awful kisser. It's no wonder you can't seem to find a girlfriend."

"That wasn't a real kiss." Sam bristled with a sudden need to defend himself. "It was… an aggressive bite without teeth."

Nick laughed at that, nodding in amusement. "Yeah, well, next time I make you mad enough to bite me, can I recommend going a little lower? Maybe trying out the neck region?" He stopped petting Sam long enough to gesture to his own nicely exposed throat.

"I'll take your request into consideration." He promised, doing his best not to assess that stretch of pale skin for the best place to lay his teeth.

Nick left for work a little after that, dressed in his freshly dry clothes from the night before. He managed to sneak a parting kiss to Sam's cheek halfway out the door and it shouldn't have made Sam smile like it did. Maybe if he hadn't seen the man kissing his family members in exactly the same way it would have been more intimate, instead it gave Sam a gentle feeling of acceptance and ease that had hadn't expected.

"If they haven't fixed the power by tonight can I-"

"You can have the couch. I'll find a blanket just for you."

The smile they shared was a little more guarded that usual, but Dean was still sitting beside the fire on the far side of the room, _not_ watching every little thing that passed between them.

"I'll sleep better next to you." Nick argued gently.

"You slept _around_ me last night, you octopus."

"What can I say? I'm a cuddler."

A sighed found its way out from somewhere deep down inside Sam. "Just call me if you're coming over again tonight so I can brace myself." He said while pushing the man out the door.

He watched Nick go because he didn't have anything more complicated in him than to just stand there.

"So," Dean had snuck up behind him, because apparently anyone and everyone was going to do that today. "He stayed the night last night."

"Nothing happened." Sam said quickly because even if Dean was supposed to think that Sam and Nick were involved _that way_, it didn't mean that he wanted his brother thinking that they had gotten that far that fast.

"That's what he said- and I figure I would have been able to hear your girly giggling if he had popped your cherry- so you two must have kept your pants on." He said so matter of factly like none of this was odd or unusual. "I guess the power for his whole apartment building is out."

"That's what he told me." Sam looked sideways at Dean and was surprised to see how deep that calm acceptance went. "You two had a good morning, didn't you?"

"We… talked. He's ok." Dean decided after a moment's thought.

"How do you go from telling me I should dump the guy to 'he's ok' and 'he's got a neat car'?"

"I _never_ said 'neat'. Ever. In my whole life." Dean frowned then shrugged. "But, yeah. He's got a nice car."

"So you like him now?"

Dean drew a long breath through his nose and frowned again. "Look, last week the guy calls me up asking what your favorite food is. I tell him what a freak you are and how much you love your organic, hippy crap and the dude tells me that there's no way he can go into a place and order that kind of food and still sleep at night. So I tell him about that place in Palo Alto- figuring that if I make it complicated enough, he'll give up and let me get back to work. And the next thing I know he's asking for the exact address of the place and then where you like to hide out on campus.

"He likes you, god knows why. And stranger than that, you like him back. Sam, you've been wound tighter than a two dollar watch since your finals started, and I just heard you two laughing in the kitchen. I saw you smile for the first time in days. I don't have to like him. I like you when you're with him. It's good enough for me."

.:.

Nick was back that night. Still no power. Apparently the storm had blown out a couple lines and his block wasn't a big priority to fix.

Sam set him up on the couch with a blanket that had been pilfered from Dean's bed and a vow to do Nick severe bodily harm if he didn't behave himself tonight. The man only smiled and asked if he could borrow Sam's sweatshirt again.

A few hours later Sam stumbled blearily downstairs, wanting to get a drink of water before going to sleep after one last night of cramming, before one last final in the morning. It was dark in the living room. No glow in the fire, no lights left on. Even in the gloom, Sam could see the small lump on the couch which was inevitably Nick. And it was only then that he remembered that they turned off the heater at night to help save on the electricity bill. Sam and Dean both ran a little warm and with all those blankets that they horded it didn't make too much of a difference to either of them.

Nick on the other hand… Sam had never even once seen the man without long sleeves on, rolled up to his elbows only twice. He was not the kind of man who was built to deal with the cold. Even the subtle cold that California had to offer. But maybe Sam was just a little unimpressed with the icy winds because they didn't bring snow, like they had in Kansas, so what was the big deal.

He sat on the edge of the coffee table and gently shook Nick. "Hey. You awake?"

Nothing.

"Nick." He didn't want to raise his voice too loudly because Dean was not exactly a deep sleeper even if he was all the way upstairs behind a closed door. "Come on. Up."

The man stirred beneath his blanket. "Is it Christmas? Did Santa come yet?"

Sam was grateful for the darkness because it hid his smile. "Come on upstairs, Nick."

The palest of eyes peered out at Sam, slow, sleepy blinking. "Oh, it really is Christmas, isn't it?"

"Shut up and get up before I leave your ass down here."

Nick was not at all graceful as he stumbled along after Sam, clinging to the back of his shirt, wearing the blanket he had been given like a cape. He tripped on the last step and crashed into Sam with a softly muttered apology.

"Keep it down." Sam chided, dragging the man along, pulling and then pushing him into bed.

"I like when you get rough with me." Nick chuckled, sleepy and lost in the dark and shadows as he rolled across the bed, settling into a comfortable middle place.

"Shut up." Sam found himself saying again as he climbed in, draping them both in a mass of blankets- the majority of which went over Nick. "Go back to sleep. And before you even ask- no. You can't have a kiss."

"I'll settle for an arm."

"You'll… what now?"

Nick inched closer, rolling onto his side and tucking his hands up beneath Sam's arm. His cold, cold hands. "Just an arm. 's all I need."

Sam whispered against the crown of Nick's head, "goodnight, my ice princes."

"Goodnight, my toasty knight." Nick whispered back, somewhere down around Sam's chest.

It was an oddly comfortable way to sleep.

It was just as comfortable to wake up to, though slightly more confusing than it should have been.

At some point Sam had managed to roll onto his side as well, and though he had never known himself to be a 'cuddler', Nick had no such restraints. He had once more plastered himself to Sam, both arms rucked up beneath the younger man's shirt, fingers curling along the slow arch of his ribs right beneath his chest. One knee tucked up between Sam's, one knee over, their legs woven together in an easy tangle. He'd made himself a small lump against Sam, like a limpet clinging to the underside of a ship, as close as he could get with cloth and skin still between them.

It was far more intimate than Sam had been mentally prepared for, even with both of them being fully clothed. He was fairly certain that, despite any fluctuations in temperature, this breached the 'straight man physical contact' code.

Sam wriggled away to turn off his alarm clock and then he had to fight the urge to curl back around Nick, because that break in contact had left a cold spot on his chest and stomach.

It was a conflicting morning if nothing else.

Nick was looking around with a bewildered expression like had no idea where he was or how he got here. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty." Sam started pushing Nick off, trying to figure out how to untangle their legs without acknowledging that they were tangled to begin with.

"Ungodly hour." Nick rolled away with a grumble, hiding his face beneath the blankets, tacking on the accusation of "sleepless heathen," for good measure.

Sam slid out of bed, straightening his clothes, eyeing the lump burying itself deeper beneath the covers before he started looking for something to wear to school. "I've got my last test this morning."

"Good luck." Came the muffled words.

"You have work today?"

"This afternoon. You still coming with me to Frisco tomorrow?"

Sam hesitated halfway into his jeans. "Tomorrow?" That would technically fall into the weekend, wouldn't it? He had almost forgotten that he had said yes to the offer. And he had certainly forgotten how soon it was.

"Pick you up around three?" The lump suggested.

"Are we, um- taking your bike?"

"No." The lump shifted, settling.

"Are we going to take your sexy car that can't be out in the rain?" Sam pulled on a clean tshirt and shook hair from his eyes.

"Only if you ask nice."

Sam picked up his pillow and hit the lump where he thought the words were coming from. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The lump only hummed in agreement, and Sam smiled as he grabbed a hoodie and left.

Two nights later saw Sam stumbling with Nick back to the car- witch incidentally was a stunning piece of American automotive ingenuity that even Sam could appreciate.

They both reeked of sweat and beer and pot- and if it counted for anything at all Sam had only participated in the first of the offences, and Nick only had only gone as far as the second. But the room had been packed with people and hazy with smoke from cigarettes and other, less legal things. It had permeated their clothes and Sam was grateful for the short walk back to the parking garage because it gave them both time to air out.

Initially when Nick had listed their errands in San Francisco- being the violin dropped off (which they had done first thing upon entering the city), a concert, and a touch up to an old tattoo- Sam had foolishly assumed that the 'concert' part of their to do list would be more closely linked to the violin. Something classical and lovely and meant for sitting in seats wearing button up shirts and serious expressions.

Looking back at the invitation, as well as looking at the man who was currently hanging from his shoulder like the hot mess that he was, Sam should have known that the concert would not be a formal affair. In fact, when Nick had come to pick him up that afternoon and Sam asked if he would need a tie and Nick only laughed, that should have been indication enough.

It had been a punk rock concert, headlining an Irish band that Sam had never heard of. It had been loud and energetic and absolutely fantastic even if it was not at all what he was expecting. He had lingered near the back of the large room where there was empty pockets of floor, and watched as Nick was swallowed whole by the crowd, only to reemerge from time to time to buy himself another overpriced beer- or as the night wore on, lean on Sam close enough to be heard over all the noise, too long and far, far too close.

It wasn't that Sam didn't enjoy the music or the energy, in fact it was hard to not get swept up in the almost gleeful mob mentality of the whole thing. It was just that he didn't want to get separated from Nick and lost somewhere in San Francisco- so he stayed put and let the man drift back whenever he needed a breather or more than a few inches of floor to stand on.

The concert had ended a little past eleven and they had made it outside into the foggy night. Cold, pressing drifts of air clinging to them. There was no way to tell exactly how drunk Nick had managed to get himself. All Sam knew was that the man was very warm and very close and his feet didn't seem to go where he wanted them to. And so they stumbled together. It would have been easier if Nick wasn't so tall or heavy, because every time he tripped over the very flat sidewalk he threatened to take Sam down with him.

"You do know that there is no way I'm letting you drive us back to the hotel." Sam tightened his arm under Nick's shoulders, his grip on the back of the man's jacket to keep him from wandering off into the street like he seemed so determined to do.

Nick blinked up at him with glassy eyes and a wide smile. "What?"

"When we get to the car- I need the keys."

"But you can't drive my car."

"Well one of us has to and it's not going to be you."

Nick didn't drive his car any differently than he drove his bike, which was to say that Sam spent most of the ride into the city that afternoon with his eyes closed because if death was going to take him he would rather it be a surprise. There was no way in hell that he was going to let the man drive them somewhere in his drunken state.

"Sammy, asking to drive a man's car is like asking to drive his wife. It just isn't done." Began the slightly slurred lecture.

"Don't call me _Sammy_."

"Your brother gets to."

"Yeah well, he's the only one." Sam pulled Nick a little closer to let a group of people who were walking considerably faster pass them.

"Big meanie." Nick said into his shoulder, leaning on Sam enough that they started to cant too far and almost crashed into the building on Sam's other side.

"I could be at home right now, watching Netflix, listening to Dean complain about unrealistic blood spray." And Sam didn't know if he was reminding himself of this or just letting the other man know- just as he wasn't positive if the alternative was better or worse than where he was.

They got down one more block and into the parking garage before Sam had to drag Nick to a halt beside his car.

"Keys." Sam said firmly, the same way that had so many times with Dean over the past few years- the same way he had to with John so many times before he'd had enough and left home.

"Can you even drive a stick shift?" Nick was squinting up at Sam under the harsh florescent lights.

"It's been a while, but I know how."

Nick's mouth became a small, unhappy little line. "You're going to hurt her."

"I will be so careful." Sam tried to keep any sarcasm from his voice for fear that Nick might hear the insincerity even through all that liquor.

Stubbornly, Nick folded his arms, pulling away from Sam and leaning against his car. "I've never let anyone else drive her."

"Well you really should have thought about before you decided to try and embalm yourself tonight."

" 'm not _that_ drunk."

Sam narrowed his eyes and put one hand on Nick's shoulder, giving him a firm tug forward. The man fell, no chance at all of keeping his footing and he careened into Sam with a clumsy, solid impact. He made small sounds of protest but the younger man cut him off quickly.

"People who can't even stand don't get to drive."

And much to Nick's objections, Sam easily pinned him to the side of the car and patted him down until he found the keys he needed in one of Nick's pockets.

"Now can you get yourself into the passenger side or do you need me to carry you?"

Nick glowered as much as he could but he turned and carefully felt his way around the car, letting himself into the shotgun seat and muttered quietly about how mean Sam was.

Some people got sentimental or real touchy when they'd had too much to drink- people like Dean.

Others got violent.

Sam stayed outside the car for a few seconds, silently thanking whoever might be listening that he had saddled himself with someone who was more like his brother and less like his father.

Someone pouting at him was far easier to deal with than the alternative.

He got them safely back to the hotel, despite how much Nick whined or swore at him every time that Sam had trouble shifting gears and the car made it's horrible grinding sound- or the single time that he accidently stalled at a stop sign on the wrong side of one of the steep hills and started rolling backwards. They made it in one piece and as far as he was concerned Nick could thank him in the morning.

"You could have hurt her." Nick said sullenly as he took back his keys and refused Sam's arm while they made their way to the elevator.

"You're car is fine." Sam sighed and pushed the up button.

"Getting your big, rough hands all over me is one thing." Nick held his keys to his chest like Sam might try to take them back. "But you can't manhandle her like a cheap whore. She's a lady."

"I'll keep that in mind." He sighed again and watched the numbers over the door counting down, waiting. It wasn't like Nick had been at all gentle when he had driven them this afternoon, though he never ground the gears or stalled the engine, so perhaps he had a point.

Nick looked to be lost in his own world for a moment, thinking so hard it showed on his face. "You really do have big hands though."

Sam frowned and couldn't help but glance at his hands which looked the same size that they always did. Before he could really argue Nick reached out to him, clumsily pressing one of his hands against one of Sam's, struggling to line up their palms or their fingers, seemingly not able to decide which would be better for measuring.

"Like this." He took Nick's hand and very easily lined them up, a little disappointed to see that his own hands were marginally bigger. "I'm tall… it's a proportion thing." He said lamely like it was any kind of excuse.

"No." Nick laced their fingers, still holding them up around chest level so he could really look at them. "_I'm_ tall. You're a giant."

The elevator doors opened and Sam wrested his hand back. "Come on, Nick." He called over his shoulder and then frowned when he saw that he wasn't being followed at all.

Nick was too busy looking at his own hands, frowning at them like they had done his wrong somehow.

"I'll leave without you." Sam threatened even as he put his foot in way of the door to keep it from sliding shut.

"Do they look smaller than normal to you?" He held his hands out for Sam's inspection.

Frustrated, Sam just grabbed the man by his wrists and pulled him into the elevator, awkwardly catching Nick as he stumbled.

His pale eyes went wide and he held himself tensely against Sam's chest. "Hey." Came his confused, feeble protest.

Sam snaked an arm around Nick, holding him comfortably in place as he gently wrested the keys from the man before tucking them back in the pocket he had originally taken them from. The last thing they needed was drunk Nick somehow dropping and losing the keys somewhere in the hotel- never to be found again.

"You keep touching me like this and I'll have to charge you."

"I was putting your keys where you wouldn't lose them."

Nick patted at his pockets until he heard the soft jingle, then settled back into Sam like he belonged there, his warm hands resting against the curve of Sam's shoulders. "How long have we been doing this, Sam?"

"I'd say maybe fifteen seconds. It's not the fastest elevator, but we don't have all that far to go."

"Don't be stupid." Nick rolled his eyes and his head kind of followed, nodding to the side and before he hid a grin against Sam's chest. "I mean how long have we been dating?"

"About a month?" He surprised himself with the answer. Had it really been that long? Sometimes it felt like they just met- but then there were times like this, when Sam felt so comfortable with Nick it was like they'd known each other for years. Only a month?

"A month." Nick repeated softly, face still hidden, no indication that he planned to surface anytime soon.

For just a second Sam let himself enjoy the rough, warm contact- then the elevator leveled out on their floor and the doors opened. "Come on, we need to get you in bed." They did a little two-step, dancing with each other as Sam tried his best to drag Nick with him in the direction of their room.

"Sam?" He kept one hand on the younger man's shoulder, the other he trailed along the wall to aid in his balance. "If you were as drunk as I am- and I was as drunk as I am,"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at that.

"And one of us was a girl- would we have sex tonight?"

The laughter died pretty quick and Sam found himself struggling to remind himself that Nick was drunk and there was no real harm or threat meant by the question.

"I think if I was as drunk as you are then I would have passed out by now."

"Lightweight." Nick laughed and then frowned as they stopped walking. "Is this our room?"

"Yes."

"Do you have the card thing for the lock or do I?"

"You do."

Nick got that same deep look of concentration that he had at the elevator. "Maybe I put it in my wallet?"

"Where's your wallet?"

"In a pocket?" Nick asked carefully, raising his arms and looking down at himself.

"God, you're useless." He said in the most affectionate way he could as he propped Nick against the door and started searching for a wallet. The fact that the man started squirming as soon as Sam started looking didn't make the goal any easier.

"Hold still, or find your own wallet."

"It tickled." Nick whispered harshly.

And Sam didn't really know how to respond to that, because Nick wasn't supposed to be ticklish. And even though he had suddenly been given a beautiful opportunity to get himself in trouble, Sam did the noble thing and held his hands up where they could be seen and waited as Nick made a point of straightening his clothes and slowly going from pocket to pocket until he finally found his wallet.

Despite the odds, they got the door open and into their room, and Sam smiled at the two beds, just as happy to see them now as he had been that afternoon when they check in and dropped off their stuff.

Maybe he had initially expected some kind of shenanigans from Nick.

When Sam had told him where he was going, Dean had certainly made a point of warning him against all the indecent things that Nick could have planned for the two of them alone in a hotel together for a weekend. And Sam knew, he _knew_ that Nick had nothing towards him other than the purest of intentions- and even still he had doubted just for a moment because it was healthy to occasionally question the lunatic situations that you put yourself in.

But then he had seen the two beds and he remembered why it was that he was so fond of Nick.

He steered his mess of a friend towards the bathroom. "Why don't you try taking a shower, see if you can sober up a bit- at least get some of that stink off you."

"You didn't answer my question… at least I don't think." Nick held the doorframe, not willing to be banished quite yet.

"What question?"

"Would we have sex tonight if one.. or both of us were a girl? I don't remember when we were supposed to get around to it and I- I don't typically date anyone for more than a night." He frowned as he struggled to collect all his thoughts and get them in the right order to make some kind of sense. "It just seems like tonight would be a good night for it, doesn't it?"

Sam did his best to look at the question for what it was. Not a proposition, but a simple inquiry as to what they were going to tell (or not tell) their brothers when they got home. They needed to keep their stories straight. A long term lie needed to be very carefully put together.

"No." He decided.

"No?" Nick tilted his head so far to the side he was resting against his own shoulder. "I must really be in love with your gangly ass if I'm waiting more than a month for you to put out. I usually don't wait more than a few hours."

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, the one closest to the window, and scrubbed a hand over his mouth. "Look, you're drunk off your ass and there's no way I'd take advantage of you tonight."

"You… _you_ don't want to take advantage of _me_?" It was a good thing that Nick had the doorframe to hold him up because in his unbalanced state it was the only thing keeping him standing as he started to laugh. It took him almost a full minute to get control of himself enough to speak. "Oh, darlin'- you're too perfect."

"Look- I'm just saying there's no way I would with you so drunk you can't even stand." He knew that Dean would never go for it- he knew Sam too well. Aside from that, the suggestion made Sam feel a little sick. Nick was his friend and Sam wasn't a complete asshole. There are some things that you just don't do.

"You, sir, are a gentleman and I don't deserve you." He fumbled the bathroom light on and started peeling off his jacket. "But there is always tomorrow night and it would be a shame to waste this _romantic_ room."

Sam looked at the two separate beds and the overwhelmingly beige color pallet of the room.

"And for the record, I'm not as drunk as you seem to think I am."

"I'm surprised that your liver hasn't staged a mutiny and left you in a puddle of your own vomit."

"You always say the sweetest things." Nick finally managed to get his jacket of and Sam averted his eyes while the man began the arduous task of wrestling his own shirt. "Have you considered that maybe I'm just playing up what alcohol I have going for me so I had an excuse to touch you."

"And how well did that work out?"

"You carried me here, didn't you?" The shower turned on. "My big, strong, protective man."

It was hard to not be charmed by such logic and sentimentality. "Don't drown in there, Nick." Sam advised, thinking it would be a shame to waste all the work that they'd put in so far.

Nick hummed thoughtfully. "You wanna' join me, keep me safe, make sure I don't bump my head?"

"I'm going to sleep." Sam informed the ceiling.

"But I'm almost naked."

"Close the door and don't tell me about it." He really hoped that Nick couldn't see him smiling, because it would only encourage the man.

The door didn't close and the shower ran- there were no continued sounds of undressing or anything else productive. Sam chose to ignore all of it as much as possible, laying back on his bed, debating how deep his regrets would be if he just slept in his clothes.

"Sam?"

"Yes?"

"I can't get my shoes untied."

"How is that 'not as drunk as you look' thing working out for you now?" He folded his hands comfortably over his stomach and closed his eyes.

"If you don't help me I will just shower with them and my pants on- because I can't get them off over the shoes- and when they're all still wet tomorrow I will make you go to the store and buy me new shoes and dry pants."

"You're worse than Dean." But just as if it were his big brother in there, Sam dragged himself up off the bed and went to the bathroom, doing an award winning job of not smiling or laughing at the man who was sitting on the edge of the tub, wearing only jeans, tennis shoes, and a pitiful expression.

Despite his protests, Nick had to be completely sloshed, because he was sitting with his bare back to the shower spray, water sprinkling from behind, darkening his hair, wetting his shoulders down to the back of his jeans. And at no point did he seem to notice, just blinking slowly at Sam with a slightly hopeful glint in his eyes.

Sam knelt on the floor next to Nick and started to untangle the mess that had been made of his shoelaces. "What would you do if I wasn't here to save you from yourself?"

He considered slowly before giving his answer, like it was a test. "Wouldn't bother with a shower. Wake up in the morning smelling like I'd been sautéed in cheep beer and shame. My mouth would taste like ass- and I would have many regrets." One of his fairly wet hands came up to touch Sam's hair. "The biggest one being that apparently you weren't here to take care of me tonight."

Sam smiled and shook his head, moving onto the second shoe.

"I mean it… same for what I said earlier. You're too good for me."

"Nick, whatever stupid thing you're about to say, you won't remember it tomorrow and I doubt that I'll want to. Do us both a favor."

"You're not a psycho bitch. I never thanked you for that."

"You're welcome I guess?" It wasn't the worst complement someone had paid him, and if nothing else it made Sam smile and he set aside the second shoe.

"I mean it." Nick said with the kind of sincerity that only drunk people seem to be able to master. "For the longest time I've been worried that I'll turn around and suddenly realize that you're this insufferable asshole like every other person I've ever dated. But look at you- you're like a boy scout… male model… moose man- and you laugh at my awful jokes and you have those god damned dimples and why couldn't you have been a girl?"

Sam laughed, sitting back on his butt on the cold floor and looking up at Nick. Without a shirt the man was even more pale, and at the same time somehow far more colorful. Ink lines running over the hitch of his shoulders and down his arms. One design stood out from the rest, sitting along on the left side of his chest, apart from the others, looking for all the world like a child's drawing. Literally, like Nick had given a pack of markers to a small child and let them draw what may or may not have been a dragon? Some kind of rounded monster with horns? Whatever it was, it was as charming as it was confusing.

"Nick- take your shower. Make it a cold one."

"Yell at me if I'm not out in five minutes. If I don't come out assume that I died and you have my advanced permission to attempt mouth to mouth- just no tongue, ok? We're not at that point in our relationship yet." He still hadn't taken his hand from Sam's hair and it was an odd counterweight to his words.

"I'm not sure I would want to do better than you, Nick." Sam found his mouth making words that he had no desire to take back- even if he questioned how honest they were. They felt like the right words right then.

Tired, glassy eyes crinkled around the edges and Nick smiled a smile that he probably wouldn't remember in the morning.

Sam crawled to his feet, using the edge of the sink for leverage. "Five minutes. Don't drown." And he left the steam filled room for the safety of the bed he had to call his own for the night.


	8. Chapter 8

"Sam?"

"No." He grumbled into his pillow, not bothering to look over or even open his eyes. If the word felt tired and worn it was only because he had said it nearly twenty times over the last few minutes.

"Please, Sam-" Nick's voice was lost in the dark of the room, soft and insubstantial. "I need you."

"What you need is to go down to the front desk and ask for another blanket." He rolled and put his back to the other bed, clinging to his own blankets just in case the man got any ideas.

"But that's all the way downstairs, and I know that you're warm."

"I won't be if I let you put your corpse feet on me."

Nick made a plaintive noise, going beyond needy to downright pitiful. "You're my _boyfriend_. You're obligated to keep me warm."

"I never signed anything." The argument had been going on far too long. It was sheer stubbornness that kept him from just giving in to the request at this point. But stubbornness can only take you so far and the need for sleep was starting to win out.

Taking a deep breath, Nick began again. "_Sam_-"

"How long are you going to keep this up?"

"Until I am safe and warm, wrapped in those big strong arms of yours."

"No."

"Come on, I'm letting you be the big spoon."

Some fights weren't worth having. It's not like he could have won anyways.

"Absolutely no spooning." Sam lifted the corner of his blankets and just waited. He didn't have to wait long.

The springs on the other bed creaked in anticipation as Nick shifted with eagerness and hope. Bounding happily from one bed to the next, the man slid in beside him, adding his own blankets to the pile and wriggling until he was pressed up as close as skin would allow.

He had taken Sam's advice and sobered up at bit- though it had come in the form of a short but seemingly very cold shower. The man was still a bit slower than normal but it didn't seem to hamper his ability to annoy Sam into submission.

Case and point, Sam had invited the meat popsicle to join him, even knowing what was going to happen.

True to form, Nick showed no restraint in tucking his appendages anywhere that seemed marginally warm, like he was curling up alongside his own personal space heater and had every right to all Sam's most sensitive nooks and crannies.

"Oh god. Stop. Stop. Stop-" Sam tried his best to shrink away, but quickly found himself on the edge of the bed, teetering over the void and he was left with no choice other than to accept Nick's hands and feet and elbows and cheek. "Why?"

"I was very serious about those arms of yours being around me." Nick mumbled into his chest.

"How are you this cold and not shivering?" Sam couldn't convince any part of his body to willingly engage in any physical contact beyond what was absolutely necessary to keep himself from falling off the bed.

"Really bad circulation and I _am_ shivering- you're just squirming too much to notice." He answered with a frustrated noise as he tried to find a welcoming spot for his long, cold fingers.

And that was wrong, because Sam could feel the man trembling ever so slightly.

"You could have turned the shower to hot for a while before you got out- you know." He caught Nick's hands and held them between his own in an effort to warm them and keep them away from his stomach at the same time.

And it was like Nick understood that he wasn't going to willingly be given the cuddle that he had been requested- because he decided to take a different approach. He stole back his hands in favor of grabbing the younger man's shoulders and forcibly pulling him over. The roll resembled something that Sam had seen on Animal Planet during a crocodile documentary- and though he did his best to fight the momentum all he managed to do was instigate a very sleepy, half hearted wrestling match between the two of them.

On a good day Sam might have won- but this was neither a day, nor was it good (being a very subjective term which had nothing to do with everything up until this point and more specifically referred to the last few minutes when he much rather would have been sleeping instead of arguing).

In the end, Nick reigned triumphant over the clumsy tussle and his prize was a very heavy, living, and loudly protesting blanket.

Sam found himself reverse pinned to Nick, held tenuously on top of the man with a tangle of long, intoxicated limbs.

"This is where I'm sleeping." Nick announced in a pleased voice. "Do be a dear and fix the blankets that you tossed off during your little struggle. My left foot isn't covered and it's cold out there."

Some things were easier than fighting, and this right here barely made the cut off.

It took some coaxing from Nick followed by very careful maneuvering to make sure that certain parts of their anatomy didn't line up in ways that would be too awkward. Little things that Sam hadn't considered before this very moment, and frankly he could have gone his whole life never worrying about how he and Nick we so very close in height that if their shoulders lined up it meant that their hips would as well, which also leveled their faces and- really, this would be far more acceptable if they actually wanted to have sex with each other at some point this weekend.

It was a fact and a soon to be elaboration on their communal lie that Sam chose not to focus on anymore than necessary at such a close proximity. Instead he took stock of how cold Nick was, and how to best lay around and over the man to provide maximum levels of warmth without becoming one with the cold himself.

Their chests were fine to press together, nothing more unsettling there other than what you would get from a good hug. Sam's shoulder hit somewhere along Nick's sternum and he stubbornly angled the rest of his body away after that point of contact. Though a bit more arguing and tugging, Nick twisted himself, legs slating between Sam's, their knees notched together like jigsaw pieces.

And Sam was laying half on his stomach, half on Nick's and he just gave after that point, because the curve of his left hip fit almost perfectly into the curve of Nick's left hip and there came a point at which it was best to just accept one's own doom.

"I'm so glad that no one is going to walk in on this." There were more compromising positions to be in, but all of them required substantially less clothes- and that wouldn't help the goal of warmth that they were going for.

"Don't be ashamed of our love, Sam. Accept it." Nick whispered, comfortably tucking his arms up between their chests.

"This is literally the gayest thing I've ever done."

Nick turned his face towards Sam's, startlingly close on their shared pillow. "Enjoy it while it lasts because we're having sex tomorrow and that will probably be a better bench mark for your budding homosexuality."

"Don't talk about it like that." Sam begged, turning his head the other way because with everything else he just couldn't handle that last bit of closeness. "No one else is here- can we just pretend that we're normal for a few hours?"

"I've got a mouth full of your hair and a bruise already forming where that hip of yours is digging into mine- I don't think that normal is an option."

"Sorry." Sam tried to adjust, but Nick's hands caught in his shirt.

"I just got comfortable. I'll take the souvenir for what it is- just don't start the 'trying to find a good spot' dance again."

Sam settled even though it went against his better judgment. "How did I ever let you talk me into any of this- and why haven't I punched you for it yet?"

It was Nick's turn to consider, at least he grew very quiet and Sam wondered if the man had finally just passed out. It was after midnight. It wouldn't be surprising if he did just drift off, finally warm and comfortable.

"Sam, how long has it been since you were with a woman?"

He tensed. "_Excuse_ me?"

"You're excused." Nick's smile could be heard even if it wasn't seen. "I mean, when was the last time someone really rang your bell? Got your bed rocking and your toes curling and all those good things that we as a species need to feel right and good and sane?"

"I… that's none of your business." It wasn't that Sam was particularly shy- but literally, it wasn't Nick's place to ask questions like that.

"Sam…" Nick dropped his voice to a stage whisper, managing to sound worried and horrified in the same breath. "You _have_ had sex before… right?"

"Of course I have." He shifted, suddenly very uncomfortable with the topic.

"But it's been a while, hasn't it?" Nick was probably the only person on the planet who could manage to have this conversation, while twined around another man, showing only concern. "You let me get away with this kind of shit because you have the basic human need for physical contact that we all do- and I'm here."

"You're an easy target, is that what you're saying?" Sam relaxed but it wasn't out of ease, it was out of surrender. Nick was right. The only proof needed was right there in bed with him. It's hard to argue with such strong evidence.

"I'm a _convenient_ target-" Nick corrected gently. "But I don't mind." One of his arms slid from between them and loosely found its way around Sam's back, somewhere up near his shoulders. "You're convenient too."

"Wow. With smooth lines like that it's amazing that you don't have to fight the ladies off with a stick."

Nick's chuckle tapered off into a yawn, and then he was blowing Sam's hair from his face. "Joke all you want- because you're still the one dating me."

"Pretend dating." Sam reminded softly.

"Same thing in the long run, isn't it?" He blew on Sam's hair again. "At least as far as everyone else is concerned, right?"

"It is… Stop blowing on me."

"You're hair is everywhere, Rapunzel."

Sam grumbled and turned his head to face Nick despite the fact that it put their faces startlingly close together. "You going to behave?"

"Do I have to?"

"I'd like some sleep before the sun comes up- though the fact that you haven't passed out yet is really amazing and I'm actually enjoying watching you slowly deteriorate."

"Charmer." Nick chuckled and settled more comfortably beneath Sam, shifting his hips and knees and toes until everything lined up in just the wrong way.

Sam considered simply pushing Nick off the bed altogether, but it was late and he was tired along with being oddly comfortable- and he remembered weeks ago, the blonde laughing and explaining that if he could find a way to be more ok about all this when it was just the two of them alone, then it would be that much easier when they were around other people.

He pulled an arm around Nick, earning a surprised noise from the man. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He repeated hesitantly, edging close enough to touch his cold nose to Sam's throat.

Sam whimpered into a laugh and just took it all for what it was. He got himself into these situations, not just letting them happen, but encouraging them somehow and… and he was happy.

He almost hated to admit it, but he was honestly happy right in that moment.

.:.

"So, for the sake of keeping our stories on the same page-" Nick looked up from his crepe, licking a smear of green ice-cream from his lower lip. "What happened this weekend?"

Sam looked at his feet, shuffling his sneakers on the concrete and then lightly kicking at the table leg, hearing the dull _ping_ and finding no reassurance in it. "Well, we went to your concert yesterday. I put your drunk ass in bed last night. We've supposedly got a working violin in the trunk of the car now, though until you open the case and actually show me an instrument I'm assuming it's really full of drugs and the whole violin thing was a lie." He went to take a bite of his own crepe and gave up halfway, lowering the too sweet thing back down to cradle it in both hands. "We visited the Japan Town mall- which I didn't even know existed… got these…" he pointed his crepe at Nick's and then found himself frowning.

Nick was grinning at him, and Sam had come to know over the last month that Nick didn't smile so wide all that often. It was like he brought it out only for special occasions, determined to regularly employ the smallest hints of smiles for casual, every day use.

"What?"

"Well, _darlin'_, that's all well and good that you can grocery list our trip so far. But what _happened_ this weekend?"

"I just told you-"

"You're not this dense. I know you're not."

Sam ate a bit of his crepe and looked out at the shop windows, refusing to go along with Nick's… whatever he was trying to do.

Maybe Sam was still just bothered by how they had woken up that morning. It had certainly put a damper on his mood so far.

At some point during the night the two men had managed to shift positions, both of them sprawling diagonally across the bed (because Sam fit better that way anyhow), and for whatever reason Nick had deemed that the position of upmost comfort was across Sam so that they made a big letter X.

It's not that it was uncomfortable- it was just that laying there like that, in their odd position, Nick had somehow managed to confiscate one of Sam's hands.

And Sam liked his hands.

Mostly he liked to keep them to himself.

For almost half an hour he lay there, fascinated by the way that his fingers curled over Nick's cheek. At the clash of texture between skin and stubble. The way his thumb looked so ruddy against the pale skin of the man's lips.

And Nick came awake piece by piece. A slow hitch in one shoulder, a small crease between his eyes, the way he hmmed softly to himself then tucked his arms a little more beneath the mountain of blankets that he had cocooned himself in. His eyes never open, but kissed the tip of Sam's thumb and this somehow lead to Sam toying with Nick's lower lip, feeling the petal softness- that lead to a second kiss against his thumb, and then a bite and the next thing that Sam knew they were wrestling, rolling over the bed, struggling to throw each other to the floor.

Sam had won, but winning meant that he was the top of the pile between the two beds, Nick laying beneath him, his pale eyes so wide. Apparently he wasn't used to losing, because he didn't seem to know the rule of surrender like Dean had learned to do so many years ago. Instead Nick twined his long arms around the younger man's shoulders and started to pull him down, making sharp clicking noises with his teeth as he went for the soft skin of Sam's unprotected throat.

Hours later, sitting in a mall, looking at the chipped blue paint on the table, Sam resisted the urge to touch the tender spot on the underside of his jaw.

But damn it- you're not allowed to bite people.

Nick was just a cheater.

"Are you going to be able to be big and brave and tell your brother that you're not a virgin anymore?"

Sam did his best to not chuck his food at Nick. "I haven't been since I was in highschool- and since it happened in Dean's car, I'm fairly certain he already knows about it."

"Really?" Nick looked impressed.

"I stole the Impala to take a girl to the Drive Ins. I think Dean would have killed me in the morning when he found out if he hadn't been so damn proud."

For whatever reason that shut Nick up, and he spent a long moment just watching Sam with an oddly appreciative look. "You surprise me now and then." He looked down at the remnants of his crepe, licking a bit of the ice cream that had started to melt and run down the side. "I don't mean I thought that you were… unspoiled goods. With a mouth like yours someone must have taken their clothes off for you at some point and simply _begged_ until you gave in- I just didn't think you would have stolen a car to get there. But I have to commend you on your choice of vehicles." Nick pointed a strong finger at Sam. "And don't look at me like that. Fake relationship aside, just one straight man to another, I would let you fuck me in that car."

Sam could feel himself go pale at those words. There were things that you just don't say to a friend- and that may have been one of them. "Sometimes I think you picked the wrong Winchester."

"It's a _very_ nice car. And I didn't pick you. Cas picked you- for me." He rolled his eyes and sighed, being taken slightly aback by Sam's stony expression. "I'm not complaining. I'm just saying, on my own there's no way I could have got you without someone's help. To keep my pride in check I think it's important to remember that fact."

Sam ate in silence, contemplating Nick's words, weighing the open complement against the perceived insult. "It's true." He relented, not quite making eye contact because it would have undone his oh so serious tone. "I'm only here as a favor. Suffering along for the next two months, just waiting for it to be over."

"That hurts, Sam. It really does."

"You know what else hurts?"

"Getting bitten?" He knew exactly where this was going and the heat in his eyes said that he not only didn't care, but also was enjoying it.

Sam kicked Nick beneath the table, getting him right in the shins and it was oddly satisfying to see the man jump.

He rubbed at his leg, out of sight, "I forget sometimes that you're such a tender little lamb, and I can't be too rough with you." Nick managed to keep an unsettlingly cheerful tone even if it didn't match his gaze. "And that means, as unsatisfying as it is, that tonight's going to be all slow and careful."

Sam gritted his teeth against the idea. "I didn't know that you'd already decided."

"It's not so much deciding as simply acknowledging the way it will have to be. We'll make _love,_" he said like a dirty word, "and you'll blush and maybe cry a little. You'll swoon and beg and it will be so romantic and perfect just like you read about in your books."

Tonight could wait. Sam was already blushing. "Don't you even. If anyone asks- it happened. The end. No details."

"There's got to be details. Gabriel and I have been giving each other very concise play by plays since we were teens and first started kissing girls behind the school gym."

"Why would you want to tell your brother-"

"Because he's going to ask and if I just stand there stupidly, trying to figure out a good story to tell him then he's going to know what a giant lie it is."

"But why would you _want_ tell him?" Who tells their brother those kinds of things? Aside from being ridiculously unbelievable, those simply weren't the kinds of things that you tell family members about. At least not Sam's family.

Nick let his voice drop as two old women walked past them with bags of groceries. "Because we always tell each other. He still calls me when him and his wife try something new- just to tell me how it went."

"I don't swoon and I don't cry." Sam said firmly.

Nick chuckled.

"I'm more likely to leave bites and bruises." He added and felt himself grow warm again, because that definitely fell into the territory of things that you don't tell your friends. He was almost sure of it. Nick didn't need to know that Sam enjoyed being considerably indelicate when the given the chance… then again… perhaps Nick was the _only_ friend of Sam's who should be privy to that particular bit of information.

The laughter went right out of Nick, his eyebrows climbing high. He wet his lips and got a bit of a smile before seeming to think better of it. "That's... ok."

The longer that Nick sat there watching Sam's mouth the more uncomfortable the younger man grew.

"It's not something you need to go and tell your brother about." He pointed out even though he felt that that little fact should be obvious on its own. It wouldn't hurt to point it out to Nick who had the marvelous ability to overlook things of that nature.

"I've already told him about last night and this morning- texted him while you were in the shower."

The bottom dropped out of Sam's stomach, butterflies spreading everywhere accompanying a sudden, giddy feeling. "And what exactly did you tell him?"

"How you took care of my drunk ass last night. How you helped me, you know… with my clothes and the shower." Nick looked at shop windows and back at the table, talking so soft like he didn't want anyone to overhear them. Despite the fact that no one else was around. The mall was close to closing time.

"And how did I help you exactly?" Did Sam even want to know?

The corner of Nick's lips twisted up at the memory. "Oh, I was far too drunk to remember anything specific from last night. We just kissed and touched a bit and I tried to talk you into joining me in the shower but you got noble and didn't want to take advantage of me… I _do_ remember that part."

Sam didn't exactly like Nick's accusatory tone, but he took it for what it was. "Well you're half right I guess."

"And half truths are the most believable." Nick nodded, pleased to have Sam going along with him. "I've even got a bruise or two from this morning's tumble- which is fairly damning evidence on its own considering you apparently like to get a little rough."

Sam took a slow breath, determined to keep himself from blushing again because he was over twenty years old and this whole conversation was as petty and childish as it was indecent. Wiping his sticky fingers on a napkin he summoned up enough courage to ask the next question. "And what did you tell your brother happened this morning?"

Even though Nick was doing a commendable job of not looking at Sam, the younger man could still see the hint of color creep over his pale cheeks. And that was a bad sign if there ever was one.

Sam pushed hair from his eyes and tried his best to sound put upon and frustrated by the whole thing, because those were easier emotions to have. "You're the one telling all these great lies about me to your brother, Nick. I'd kind of like to know what I got up to in your demented little fantasy, since apparently it happened whether or not I wanted it to."

Nick's little smile vanished and he looked up at Sam with round, earnest eyes. "Don't say it like that- you were willing by all accounts."

"No. I just meant that you've," how to explain… "It's in writing now since you texted him. It happened. He knows and I don't' have a chance to put in my two cents to change it anymore. Just tell me what we did and let's be done with it."

"Well… we wrestled and goofed around after we woke up." He paused, watching a group of teen girls giggling and hanging off each other as they slowly made their way past. "The wrestling turned into fooling around and," Nick tugged at his lip and if Sam didn't know any better he would say that the man looked embarrassed.

"And?"

"And you made the prettiest noises while I sucked you off."

"Nick. No." Sam put his face in his hands and he was grateful for his shaggy hair because he thought that perhaps it would help to cover his face and hide how mortified he was.

"Well I couldn't do it the other way around-" Nick almost pleaded, trying to get Sam to understand why this was the story that he had chosen to give Gabriel that morning, out of every other lie he could have chosen from. "We've already established that you're not a tramp. I wasn't just going to say that you'd go down on me. That seemed like something that we needed to discuss first."

"Oh my god."

"Calm down. It's not like I told him we got out the riding crop. It was just a blow job."

Sam put his head down on the table and stayed there, trying to silently convince the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"So… would you like to give some input on what happens tonight, or should I just wing it again?"

Sam's hands stung as he slapped the table, sitting upright and staring down Nick, daring him to keep going.

"You are possibly the worst person I've ever known."

"That's not what you said this morning." He replied with a wink.

Sam's laughter sounded an awful lot like a sob as he put his head back down on the table.

.:.

"Nick?" Sam watched the freeway junction signs speeding past. "Don't we want to take that junction to get back home?"

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Nick never took his eyes from the road, easily passing someone in the left lane, blowing by at almost a twenty miles over the speed limit.

Sam could feel the trap- it was Sunday evening, and after almost three days straight with Nick, he could practically _taste_ the ambush.

"I didn't really have any plans." Wrong answer, but he knew it before the words even left his mouth.

"Have you ever been to Sana Cruz in the off season?"

More signs rushed by and Sam knew that he was past the point of protest. Arguing wasn't lost miles ago, but weeks back. So he rested his head against the window, hiding a smile. "I haven't."

Nick smacked at his knee. "Tell your Dean that we'll be late. I'm taking you to the beach."

It didn't really matter that Sam had lived within an hour of the beach since coming to California. The ocean was still something of a treat and honestly… the prospect of spending one more night with Nick was too good to pass up.

He dug out his phone and called his brother, a little shocked at how fast he picked up.

"Hiya, Sammy. How's that big gay vacation going?"

"It's not a-" Sam sighed. "It's been fun." He slapped Nick's hand off his leg.

"You two uh…you guys been going at it like a couple of rabbits the whole weekend and just thought to give me a call between rounds?"

"God, Dean." He managed to sound so casual and he fought to not congratulate himself. "We have _some_ restraint."

"Good to know."

"It was just twice last night and once this morning. But we were both kinda tired so we only-"

His big brother managed to cut him off with a very distressed sound. "Gross, man. Don't _tell_ me about it." And Dean took a moment to regain what composure he could while he let Sam stop laughing. "Is that why you called? Letting me know you're too sexed out to come home today?"

"No. We're just headed to the beach, so I'll be late."

"Yeah, whatever, you big girl." He sighed in this long suffering kind of way and Sam knew every line that would show over his brother's face even if he couldn't see them forming. "You… you ok, out there?"

"I'm fine."

"You still going to be fine in a few days?"

It wasn't something that anyone else would have asked Sam- at least not that way. But Dean knew his brother better than anyone else and Dean knew what tomorrow might be like after a weekend like this.

This wasn't like a one night stand with a girl he met at a bar, or even a little fling with a classmate. This was a tentative venture into a whole other lifestyle. Under normal circumstances it was absolutely conceivable that he would find time to have a complete breakdown once he got home. All sorts of suffocating regret over what he had done.

A twinge of guilt crawled through Sam, because those few words of concern meant that Dean was buying this whole giant lie. And it wasn't even a good one. There was little to no proof to substantiate it- all Dean had to go on was Sam's words.

Somehow that was enough.

How could he not feel guilty for a lie this huge?

"I'm a big boy, Dean. I'll be ok."

"Yeah, yeah. If he does anything … you know... punch him in the throat or bust his head or something."

"Punch him in the throat. Got it." From the corner of his eye Sam saw Nick get a confused little frown.

"And… offer still stands. You need me to come out and pick you up and beat his ass- at any time- you call me. Ok?"

Sam thought that there was a pun in there, something about Nick's ass and Dean mentioning it… but it had been a long few days, and he had already used most of his good jibes on Nick.

"Thanks." He said instead, because somewhere amidst all this, he meant it.

"Enjoy the beach, bitch."

"See you tomorrow, jerk." He hung up, tucked his phone away and smiled softly to himself up until he realized that Nick was shooting him odd little looks every few mile markers. "What?"

"First, you two are disgustingly adorable." Nick splayed his fingers over the steering wheel for emphasis. "Second, whose throat are you punching?"

"Yours."

A small noise caught in his throat. "I'm not saying I wouldn't deserve it. But why?"

"It's only as a last resort." Sam knocked his knees against the glove box, too long for the sleek car, but honestly feeling more comfortable than confined. "Just depends on how touchy you plan on getting tonight."

Nick sighed in this deeply put upon way. "Sam, you know I have no control over my body when I get cold."

It didn't help that every time Nick got that suffering, chilly look about him and started in with his whining, Sam gave in. A little quicker each time. In all honesty his actions were more a sign of his weakening resolve and had almost nothing to do with any tenderness or sympathy.

"You could try to keep your hands to yourself- just this once. I'll give you the bed next to the heater. You can put it on full blast."

"What bed?"

"The one in the hotel that we're staying in tonight…?"

Nick glanced over wearing an almost innocent expression. "Oh, did you want to stay in a hotel?"

"As opposed to what?"

Nick didn't answer right away, and Sam didn't know how to take the silence.

"I thought, since it's only an hour from there to home we could still make the drive tonight. We'll just get in real late… or real early, depends on how you look at it."

"Oh." And Sam eyed the low, grey clouds, wondering what it was that they were going to be doing if they weren't staying the night. But he supposed that he would find out soon enough.

Santa Cruz was a tourist town and as such, in the dead of winter, on a Sunday night, the Boardwalk was like a ghost town. The midway was still open, high strung, industrial Christmas lights, twinkling yellow. Music still piped in on grainy speakers, but every shop front had those metal curtains lowered and locked and there was no one there other than the two lanky men.

Sam had been out here once before, last summer. It had been loud and hot, packed with bodies all sweating and talking and laughing under the glairing sun.

This was different and it took him quite some time to figure out if it was the good kind of different or not. They walked in relative silence from one end of the midway to the other, their long shadows dancing as the small breeze made the stung lights sway. Sam settled deeper into his jacket, pulling up his collar, thinking that if he was a bit chilly then Nick must be suffering- but the other man said nothing. Hands dug into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind. Trooping along like it wasn't early December and the chill from the none too distant waves wasn't startling.

"Well." Sam said with some finality when they reached the end. "Back the other way?"

"No." Nick scoffed. Insulted by the suggestion. "We've already seen that way."

"Alright then." He looked from the exit gates to a set of short stairs which led to the beach. "So we just keep walking off into the night?"

Nick rolled his eyes and took Sam by the hand, dragging him towards the stairs, out to the sand. The Boardwalk was one of the only beaches along this part of the coast that was regularly cleaned of the mess of seaweed that was constantly washing ashore. During the day it was pale gold and almost blindingly bright under the sun, stretching from one end of the curving coast to the other. At night, beneath the scattering of heavy, wet clouds, the sand was almost as black as the waves that crawled hungrily over it.

"Hold up. I'm getting sand in my shoes." Sam pulled back, slowing Nick down like an anchor and postponing his sudden over enthusiasm for the sea.

"You big baby." But he stopped tugging and stooped over to get his shoes off as well.

The sun had been down for hours and the sand was surprisingly cold. Sam dug his toes down, hoping against hope to find a bit of warmth if he went deep enough.

No such luck.

"Everything about this is insane." Sam said, wiggling his toes.

"I used to come out here with my brothers during winter break when we were kids." Nick smiled, leaving his shoes behind and just shuffling out across the stretch of sand. "We'd have an end of year bonfire and toss all our old school work in."

"A bonfire _with_ your brothers?" Sam jogged after to catch up, uncertain where exactly they were aiming for, because it wasn't the water. He could make up hulking shapes in the sand here and there, big dark things that didn't visually make much sense in the low light.

"Well, not all my brothers. Though Anna found out about it and talked Michael into coming once."

"I take it it didn't end well?"

Nick looked over his shoulder with a crooked expression. "You could say that."

Sam had come to realize that his friend wasn't too big on proper answers to questions.

"Here." He announced, a few yards off, standing beside what Sam started to realize was driftwood. Enormous driftwood. A whole tree it looked like.

"Here. Yes. But what _is_ it?" Sam asked skeptically.

"A place to sit." He pointed as he busied himself with what Sam was starting to understand was the remnants of a bonfire that must have died out hours, if not days ago.

And Sam sat, because he didn't have much reason not to. If nothing else, it let him tuck his legs up a little closer. Let him try to hold in a bit of heat as he watched Nick fiddling around with the small, charred logs.

"You won't have much luck with those."

"These? No." He looked back over his shoulder, pale faced and blinking into the wind. "But typically the beach bums leave a bit of good wood behind for the next guy."

Sam couldn't help but smile. Just the idea of young Nick out here with his brothers, gangly legs and red cheeks, throwing homework into a fire in the middle of the night like some horrible offering to a scholar god. Freckles and skinned knees- and honestly he had no proof that the man ever had a single freckle, but Sam could imagine to his heart's content while he watched Nick build a careful stack of ready to burn wood and slightly charred branches and logs.

"I hope you have matches. I didn't bring any." Sam advised

Surprisingly, the man did have a lighter. Little bits of paper were produced from his pocket next, and Sam struggled to recognize the receipts as what they were. Little bits of evidence from their past few days, and Nick managed to coax a curl of smoke and then a flicker of flame.

"Where did that come from?" Sam asked as Nick tucked the lighter into a pocket.

"Just an old habit." He said with a hint of a smile that was almost lost in the dark.

Even after the fire started to grow Sam struggled to feel the heat, small light that it was that hardly stood a chance to combat the night.

Perhaps a bit too soon, Nick came to join him, sitting close enough that their sides touched. Shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee. If the man weren't a pillar of winter himself it would have been a welcome bit of contact. Instead he shied away as much as he could without actually standing.

"How have you not keeled over from hypothermia and just died?"

" 'm stubborn like that."

Sam sighed, watching the fire instead of his friend. "You sure you don't want to go somewhere warmer?"

"I like it here." He said stubbornly, tucking his hands between his knees, eyes fixed on the steadily growing flames.

Wayward starlight, steadily crashing waves, and the warm crackle of a fire.

Simply agreeing with Nick felt like a bit of an understatement. It might just have been good timing, this little trip falling right after school let out- but it was exactly what Sam needed. He needed the change of scenery, and the chance to just forget about all the things that he was supposed to be and do and just enjoy being himself for a change. Or at least as much of himself as he could be while gently perpetrating an enormous lie.

In place of an answer he pulled an arm around Nick's shoulders, offering to share whatever bit of warmth that he had left with his friend.

Leaning into the embrace Nick practically purred, a grumbling groan of pure contentment. "I think I could really fall for someone with a core temperature like yours."

Sam laughed and resisted the sudden and strange impulse to press his face into Nick's hair. "God, just shut up and be warm."

"Good thing you're so mean all the time. It helps me to resist the urge to thrown you down into the sand and ravish you." If there was any longing or passion in his words then Sam would have pushed the man off the log. But he sounded as dry as the sand they were digging their toes into and he was permitted to stay in the circle of Sam's arm.

Though it didn't really matter, because Nick unseated himself, sliding down into the sand and shoving one of Sam's legs aside to make room. As everything else for this weekend, Sam found that arguing was useless and he let his friend settled between his feet, Nick's spine pressed into his stomach and chest. The man taking shelter from the wind, using Sam as a breaker. Body heat to his back and fire to his front, drawing his knees to his chest.

Sam tried not to laugh, always aiming to do his best to not encourage the man's unsolicited touching. Even when he found that he enjoyed it far more than he thought that he should. Sam had been raised (mostly by Dean) to show affection in the most physical of ways, usually resulting in rough shoves and rougher hugs. Punches and tussles, and all the sorts of things that brothers could easily get away with.

But they only ever acted that way with each other. Sam couldn't say the last time he hugged anyone other than Dean.

That's a lie.

He had hugged Jess at her wedding, and again before she left. He'd hugged Nick's sister-in-law, though that was more of a byproduct than any action on his own part.

And then there was Nick. Sam had found himself crashing into and tangling limbs with the man almost constantly since they met.

As much as he hated to admit it, Nick was probably right their first night in San Francisco when he had assessed that Sam had a craving. A need for human contact- because everyone did- and he had simply found a willing partner.

He pressed his legs in on either side of Nick, gently crushing his shoulders and ribs. "You good down there?"

"Better than good." Nick sighed, resting a cheek against Sam's thigh.

It wasn't the most compromising position that they had found themselves in over the weekend- real or fabricated. Though this was one of the odder ones. Sam let it be, opting to just enjoy the growing warmth of the fire, and the more solid, though less substantial heat of the man tucked neatly between his legs.

They watched the blaze guttering in the wind, twisting and climbing and kissing the sky.

"I think… that this is the healthiest relationship I've ever been in." Nick spoke with his mouth against Sam's leg.

"That's not a good sign considering that we aren't actually in a relationship." He felt a need to say gently, wanting to remind Nick of that little fact that he seemed to so willingly forget.

"No. We aren't actually dating. This _is_ a relationship though. I'm here, you're here, we're relating." His breath was making a little warm spot on Sam's knee. "Ours is a love based purely on a need for fraternal freedom, warmth, and assured mutual destruction. It's honest and true."

"I suppose that friendships have stood on less." Sam relented, though he questioned the choice of the word 'honest'. Maybe with each other-but certainly not with anyone else.

Nick made a soft agreeing noise, rutting his shoulder until he wedged it in the crook of Sam's knee. "Think we can keep this up for another two months?"

Sam could have just said yes. It was an easy question. It was an easy answer. But he considered it, really thought about whether or not he could manage to maintain this counterfeit romance. The thought curled through him, warm as the fire they were watching. If he was asked to, he could manage at least twice that long.

In place of a proper answer he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, arms crossing over Nick's shoulders, up against his neck. The blonde glanced up for a second before resettling his head against Sam's forearm.

"I'll just be glad when it's over." Sam said in order to sharpen his actions. Not wanting Nick to get the wrong idea.

The man tensed and the little shift would have been missed altogether if he wasn't pressed up against Sam at so many little junctures.

"You will?"

"I'm not as good at this as you are."

"You're doing fine. Your brother seems to be buying it well enough."

_Too well_, Sam thought. "I've never been all that good at lying to him." He tucked a food beneath Nick's. "He practically raised me. He knows all my tricks."

"You think you're going to fuck it up somehow?"

"I know I will, and the longer this goes on, the harder it's going to be to explain."

"Don't explain. And don't fuck up. 's my suggestion."

"You're so helpful."

"And you're doing fine." He repeated. "This isn't a life and death game, Sam. The worst that can happen is that our brothers somehow figure it out and realize just how desperate we both are for a little bit of freedom."

Sam felt a drop of rain hit his knee, saw the little dark spot.

"Great." And he started to uncurl from round Nick, but the man looped his arms around Sam's shins and held him in place.

"Stay." Nick's words were pressed into his leg. "A bit of rain never hurt."

Sam relented, easing back down those few inches that he had managed before being weighted back down. "Sometimes I think that you're trying to kill me."

"Why would I want to go and do a damn fool thing like that? I'd have one hell of a time convincing my brother that I was dating a dead man." Nick chuckled as he looked up, the firelight catching in night black eyes, and for a moment Sam thought he could be religious.

More rain fell, light sprinkles that made the fire hiss every so often. Speckling the sand like dark stars.

With face turned to the sky, he watched Sam upside down. Features almost alien when viewed the wrong way. Nick's laugher faded to a soft rumble in his chest. Something low that Sam could feel in the long bones of his legs.

One of them had to look away first, and one of them did- but Sam couldn't say who because he had closed his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to open them again until he felt the weight of Nick's head settle back against his arm.

The fire suffered as the rain started to come down in more than just a sprinkle. Something inside of Sam suffered as well. He found himself curling tighter around Nick, partially to find a bit more warmth, partially to keep the rain off of the other man. And there may have been another reason in there somewhere, but if it was then Sam didn't know what it could be or what he would call it.

Nick huffed a soft breath, seeming to struggle to find words after such a long pause. "Have you ever considered renting yourself out as an umbrella?"

Sam managed to make a noise almost like a laugh. "Is there good money in that?"

"I'd pay to keep you." Nick mouthed against his arm.

As interesting of an offer as that was, Sam made himself uncurl. Shaking water from his hair. "I hate to break this up but I'd rather not spend my winter break in bed with pneumonia."

"Care to spend it in bed with me instead?"

"I worry about how much you're enjoying this, Nick."

"_This_?"

"All of this."

Nick looked at him again, water beading on his skin as he turned his face to the sky. One of his hands came up, curling behind Sam's head, tugging him back down. "You going to lie and tell me you're not enjoying it just as much as I am?"

Honest?

"You are the most convincing sinking ship that I've ever been asked to board." Sam found himself saying softly, feeling the warmth of his and Nick's mingling breaths curling against his face and neck.

"Cheeky." Nick grinned, arching up just enough to kiss Sam's unprotected jaw line. Managing to get almost the exact same spot that he'd bitten yesterday morning. It was the same soft type of kiss that he had given Sam two or three times before. Familiar and warm and innocent, even if the curve of his mouth wasn't.

Sam closed his eyes and just shook his head. It was a gesture of self preservation, a moment as alone and he could manage. An opportunity to calm the shiver that ran up his back. Mostly from the cold. God, he hoped it was from the cold.

Nick let go of him, fingers sliding through his hair. "We should get going before it gets any worse."

There was a basic understanding that Nick probably meant the rain. They should get going before the rain got any worse. It had nothing to do with Sam's shiver or how his mouth felt cold without Nick's soft breaths. Those sorts of things would only get worse on their own, regardless of if the men stayed here or went.

At very least- if nothing else could be done- they could fix the rain.


	9. Chapter 9

It would have been far too much to ask for a whole day to himself. Three straight days with Nick, a day and a half with Dean and all of five minutes to himself- to sit on the couch with a cup of coffee and a book – before there came a knocking at the door. Sam would have expected just about anyone at this point, from Nick coming back to harass him to Jehovah Witnesses. Instead he got Castiel. Slightly rumpled suit, pale faced and dark eyed.

"Oh. Hi, Cas." Sam felt his frustration at being interrupted ebb slightly. "Dean just left for work. He should be back around eight."

The accountant gave one of his slightly strained smiles. "I came to talk to you."

"Why?" Sam asked before he really intended and felt a bit guilty for being so gruff. It wasn't Castiel's fault. "I mean, come in. Can I get you a drink?" He tried to remember his manners.

Before long Castiel was settled nicely onto the couch, a cushion's width between him and Sam, holding a glass of water between his knees. If he had come to talk to Sam he certainly looked like he intended to take his time getting started.

The silence only filled Sam with a terrible unease. Horrible possibilities of what this talk was going to be about. Ten bucks said it was going to involve Dean in ways that Sam didn't want to think about and he really had brought this on himself by pushing Cas in his brother's direction a few weeks ago.

"What's up?" Sam asked as gently as he could, hoping that Cas wouldn't pick up on the anxiety underlying the question.

"I need to ask you a favor." He informed his water glass. "And I know that we're not friends exactly, but I… I need help with Nick."

"Oh?" Sam wasn't sure if he was relieved or more worried at this news.

"Do you think that you could talk him into coming to Christmas this year?"

Oh.

_Oh_.

"I… um," Sam kind of chuckled, relieved that it was something so simple. "I don't think that he wants to go."

"I _know_ that he doesn't want to go." Castiel sighed, setting his glass on the table. "That's why I'm asking for your help."

"Cas, I don't have that kind of power."

Castiel's eyes were a bit darker than his big brothers, though no less expressive and he pleaded with Sam in that single look.

Sam was unprepared. "W-what should I say?"

"I don't know. I've tried everything. But we had lunch yesterday and he was… he really likes you, Sam."

This wasn't gossip. Sam was fully aware of the feelings that he and Nick had decided to have for each other. They had spent almost half an hour arguing over crepes and kicks to unprotected ankles about the very subject only a few days ago. It still made Sam smile.

"He just ignores me when I invite him. He has for years. But it might be different if you ask."

"I don't think so." Sam apologized, but then Castiel got that kicked puppy look again. "But I can ask."

"Thank you." He slumped back into the couch, looking relieved and happy. "It would mean so much to the girls if he showed up. And not just Hannah and Sarah, their mom too. Her and Nick used to be very close back in school- at least that's what I've been told. It was before I came to live with my brothers."

Sam kind of nodded along, still a little confused by their family's timeline, but now was not the time to ask for clarification.

"He stopped coming to any kind of family function after his divorce… I think he blamed Michael for it somehow, at least that's what I got from some of their arguments- and things have calmed down a bit since then for whatever that's worth. He shows up for Thanksgiving and Easter, but twice a year to see your family is hardly enough."

"He sees you more often than that."

"Well, yes." Castiel smiled just a little. "But I'm non confrontational. I don't try to push his buttons like Michael and Gabriel do. I don't bring up Lilith, or June, or the Marines, or bears in Yosemite. When you know what to not talk about he's very easy to get along with."

Sam perked up. Lilith was Nick's ex, and the bears was an argument that Sam had heard before… but the Marines? _June_? How can someone's button be the whole month of June? Oh, Sam wanted to ask, but he knew it wasn't his business. If Nick wanted to share he would.

Apparently Castiel could read the curiosity on Sam's face because he suddenly paled. "Never mind. I ramble sometimes. I don't mean to."

Sam's coffee was cold, but he still sipped at it, occupying his mouth so it wouldn't ask stupid questions.

"Thank you for agreeing to help." Cas took a little sip of his own drink and when he glanced up there was a mischievous look about him- though Sam could have been misinterpreting that one, because it certainly didn't seem like a familiar expression for the accountant. "If I can ask one last thing, Sam?"

"Go for it." As long as the man wasn't expecting anything more complicated than he had already asked for.

"How was your weekend with Nick?"

"It was… _nice_." Sam said hesitantly. Which was basically the same answer he'd given Dean. What did it matter what sort of story he and Nick had concocted? He knew that he could just be vague and his brother would assume the worst.

Castiel's eyebrows went up a bit. "_Nice_?"

"We got his violin fixed. Saw a concert. I got to hold his hand while he got a tattoo on his arm touched up." There was blood and Sam had been far more uncomfortable about the whole thing than Nick. "We went to Pier Thirty-nine… just normal things I guess."

"Does he still play his violin?" Castiel leaned forward, suddenly excited.

The simple answer was yes. Sam remembered it quite clearly. Teasing Nick again in the parking garage, about the man smuggling drugs in his violin case. And Nick had laughed and taken out the smallest, most fragile looking instrument that Sam had ever seen. He had been afraid to touch it- especially when the man told him it was almost a hundred years old. He'd asked Nick to play, assuming that he would shoot him down on account of the rolling echoes of the practically empty garage.

But Nick played. He played 'Whisky in the Jar-o' of all songs, and even with the confusing acoustics it was startlingly wonderful. Everything about Nick seemed to be, so it was only fair.

Sam shook himself of the memory and smiled at Castiel. "He does. Do all you guys play an instrament?"

"We all tried at some point. He was just the only one of us that was ever any good."

Sam waited, expectantly, but when no further words came he nudged. "What about you?"

"I tried to learn the piano." He looked down, shoulders hunching slightly. "I gave up by the time I graduated high school." He glanced back up. "I'm glad you two had fun. He needed a vacation."

"I did too."

Castiel got to his feet and Sam followed. "I hope you don't mind… today is the day I go into the shop to do payroll. Dean and I are going out for drinks afterwards."

"I-I don't mind." Sam grinned and decided that he would really need to have a talk with Dean about this at some point. "I'm glad. Just try and keep him away from vodka or tequila. He knows that they make him sloppy, but when he's in the mood for trouble he doesn't care." It was only fair warning.

"Nick is the same way." Cas shook his head with a sigh. "Brown drinks make him happy. Pale drinks usually mean fist fights. I have to keep an eye on him when we go out together."

That meant that Sam should keep an eye on him as well- though if they were the same habits as Dean, it meant that a simple drink order would do wonders for gauging the man's mood. Sometimes Sam felt like he learned more about his 'boyfriend' from talking to Cas than he ever actually got out of Nick.

The little accountant smiled up at Sam, looking oddly pleased in the shared similarity of their big brothers. "It's good to know what I'm getting myself in for."

"He's easy enough to handle. Just cut him off when he starts getting… huggy."

"Oh." Castiel looked down at his shoes. "I don't think I would mind it all that much."

Sam tried not to grin. "Hey, Cas?"

"Hm?" He looked over his shoulder, hesitating halfway to seeing himself out the door.

"Have you and Dean," did he really want to know? "Have you kissed?" As soon as the word left his mouth Sam wanted to take it back. It went above and beyond what would qualify as his business. He honestly didn't even want to even consider the possibility that his brother would have… Dean wouldn't. He _wouldn't_.

It wasn't like Sam had anything at all against Castiel. The peculiar little man made Sam kind of happy to be honest. He was possibly very good for Dean. But that didn't mean that Dean was going to swing that way, or that he would even graciously accept any kind of advances from a friend. However, Dean was the kind of guy who let people he cared about get away with practically anything.

"I'm brave, Sam. But I'm not stupid." Castiel's cheeks pinked ever so slightly. "Have you… has Nick kissed you?"

That startled Sam.

There was a plan. A whole, huge, gay plan between him and Nick. But Nick had had lunch with his brother that afternoon and he hadn't even told Cas that they…

"We've… um, done a bit more than that actually."

Cas chuckled and it was a little rough like he wasn't used to making the noise. "Have you?"

Sam found that it was his turn to feel awkward. And that was fine- it's not like he was an adult or anything and years past blushing and shuffling his feet like a twelve year old at his first school dance. He managed a small nod and that was acknowledgement enough.

Castiel clapped him on the shoulder before he left, a funny sort of parting, but at the same time very familiar and warm. The same way that Nick liked to kiss Sam's cheek.

For a while Sam got to just stand there, leaning against the door, listening to Castiel drive away. He lost himself for a moment or two, mulling over what he had agreed to do. The stupid thing that he had agreed to. But Sam had no natural defenses built up for puppy dog expressions and he had said yes long before it really had a chance to sink in what a horrible thing he had agreed to try and do.

And so much for having a day to himself.

It was only a week until Christmas and it didn't leave much time to try and sweet talk Nick into going somewhere he didn't want to go, using little to no leverage at all. It was a daunting task.

Putting it off would only mean less time for persuasion.

And Sam would need all the time he could get.

He spent the afternoon making lists. Putting words and idea together and Dean would have laughed if he had known about it. But Sam was who he was, and writing things down always helped him get his thoughts in order. A few hours (and a few breaks) later, and he thought he had come up with a fair argument- or at least as good as he was going to get.

He called Nick's phone and was disappointed when no one picked up.

He called the shop and the little receptionist said that Nick had already left for the night but would be back in tomorrow around two or three.

Sam could just go to Nick's apartment… but that felt like a breech in whatever protocol they had never laid down. So he called his cell phone again an hour later and didn't leave a message because he suddenly felt overly self conscious about looking like a needy girlfriend. For lack of a better direction he stole one of Dean's beers from the fridge and settled himself down with some X Files reruns.

He was in bed before Dean made it home. Which made it a very late night for his brother. Sam kept his fingers crossed. Hoping that Dean or Cas had managed to do the right thing tonight. Whatever the right thing was.

In the morning he found a sticky note on the fridge for him. Dean's heavy handwriting crammed into the small yellow square.

'we need to talk when I get home- be here'

And thank god there wasn't anything ominous about the note. Though Dean had never had any tact and in all likelihood there was probably nothing at all sinister hidden in those few words. Probably.

It gave Sam something to fret about until that afternoon when he stepped out. No doom and gloom note from his brother would keep him from his self imposed timeframe. Besides, he'd be back before Dean got home.

Sam pulled on his coat and went for a long walk.

As he suspected, the little coffee shop situated to the left of the tattoo parlor knew Nick by name, and knew what he usually ordered, and no, they hadn't seen him yet this afternoon. Sam purchased two coffees, one with just a bit of cream and the other some kind of nonsense that he just had to trust in the barista for.

The same dark haired receptionist was there to greet Sam when he walked in, lips just as red, shirt just as low, jeans somehow even tighter.

"Well, hello there stranger." She leaned on the desk in just the right way to give Sam a nice peek down her top, should he choose to. "Am I happy to see you again."

He smiled right at her face, with a perfectly steady gaze. "Is Nick in yet?"

"Boss man?" She stood a little bit straighter, eyeing not only Sam but also his two coffees. "Yeah. He… had a rough night last night so we were letting him sleep. He's that lump in the corner." She kept her eyes on Sam while nodding towards the back of the shop.

Sam easily looked over her head to the far side of the room, seeing at first only a sturdy looking man with closely shaved hair, who as emphatically not Nick, carefully laying out a sprawling design over a young man's arm. They were both locked in a quiet conversation that was relatively lost behind the buzz of the tattoo needle and the classic rock station that was playing just a bit too loud.

Nick was not literally in the corner of the shop, but he was in the furthest station from the door, and not particularly notable aside from the clutter. He was leaning back, half falling out of a desk chair with a magazine lying over his face. At least, Sam assumed it was Nick. The patterns on his arms looked familiar if nothing else.

"Can I go back?" Sam asked the girl, holding up the coffees.

She smiled at him again, a little crooked this time. "Yeah. Go ahead. He's uh-he's got a picture of the two of you on his wall. See if you can talk him into giving me a copy?"

A… picture?

Oh no.

There could be only one picture.

The two of them had gone into a photo booth at the Pier over the weekend. Nick had caused trouble and Sam made him promise to get rid of the evidence resulting there in. He should have known that Nick would keep it.

Sam had an itch on the back of his neck for the whole short walk, convinced that the receptionist was studying every bit of his progress. Ever so carefully he set the drinks down on a desk littered with papers and binders and sketchbooks. It was almost the exact opposite of Nick's apartment. Clutter covering every surface except for a very comfortable looking dentist-esk chair that Sam could only assume was for customers, and a tall tray on wheels, with little C rings on the side from which hung a pair of tattoo guns.

Despite his initial intentions, Sam found himself taking advantage of the moment to look around. He lightly scooted aside one of the binders, peeking to see it filled with nicely sorted photos of tattoos. He was almost brave enough to look inside one of the sketchbooks, but settled for peering at a few familiar faces in the photos pinned to a cork board, partially hidden behind a half finished painting of crows. A really… really nice painting of crows. Not that Sam was an art expert or anything like that. But they really looked like the birds that they were supposed to be and that had to say something about the quality. Right?

Sam would much rather look at those birds than the other pictures.

One particular picture.

Or four- if you looked at it right. One long set of photos with little white bars between. The first was innocent enough, the two of them both smiling a little awkwardly at the camera. But by the second one Nick had grabbed hold of Sam and done a marvelous job of crushing the younger man into the corner of the booth, kissing him full on the mouth- or at least that was certainly what it looked like. He had managed to get a few fingers between their lips of them on the far side where the camera couldn't see. But it certainly looked very convincing. The last two pictures were of Sam eyeing Nick in wide eyed terror while the older man laughed until his face was red.

He really should have gotten rid of it. If nothing else, it was at least somewhat hidden in the mess of other photos. There was an upsettingly sweet picture of Nick's nieces and nephew building a sandcastle. There was another photo from probably the same day, with Nick and the children burying Gabriel up to the neck beneath a lopsided pile of sand. The older man was in swim trunks and looked slightly sunburned, but fiercely happy.

There were more photos, some of family, some of people that Sam didn't recognize in the slightest. There was one family photo where everyone looked familiar, except for the addition of an oddly short, man with messy brown hair. It had to be the boys' father. He had the same almost grey blue eyes that Nick did, the same awkward smile that his sons all seemed to share.

It was a nice peek into Nick's life. And Sam enjoyed seeing that, despite how Thanksgiving had gone a few weeks ago, there was evidence that at some point all four brothers had been at least willing to smile and lean against each other.

There was one face mixed in with all the others that Sam positively didn't know, but she looked so familiar at the same time. There had to be at least ten pictures of a young blonde girl with sterling blue eyes and a smear of freckles. She was shown in an array of ages, from toddler to about the same age as Michael's older kids. Smiling, playing soccer, glairing into the sun, poised just so for a school picture with a painfully unflattering blue background. An odd collection and Sam wondered if she was somehow Gabriel's daughter and just hadn't been at Thanksgiving. Or perhaps a sister? A much, much younger sister.

Sam made himself look away, because he wasn't willing to check the back of the photos in hopes of finding a name. Just as sure as he would still have no idea who she was even if he knew what she was called.

He turned to Nick and was on the verge of waking him in some obnoxious way, right up until he saw the man's hands. They were folded over his stomach, the last three fingers of his right hand bound up in a series of those little blue medical splints, wrapped in enough tape that it almost hid the purple and black bruising.

"Nick?" Sam leaned down, lightly patting at his knees. It was a gentle movement but obviously enough to startle the man awake.

He sat up alarmingly fast, the magazine sliding to his lap, his eyes wide and un focused- Sam half expected to see a black eye, but instead was treated to a view of a painfully deep split lip offset with two small black stitches.

"God damn it, Sam." Nick used his good hand to pick up his magazine and smacked Sam firmly in the stomach. "You can't go sneaking up on me like that."

He took the swat because he supposed that he deserved it. "What happened to you?"

"Nice to see you too, Sam." Nick had a fantastic ability to put an undue amount of sarcasm into those few words. "How have you been?"

"I'm… I'm better than you I guess." He leaned back against the counter. "Holly hell, Nick."

"Thanks." He rubbed at an eye, then touched his lip and winced. He gave Sam a guarded look, slightly on edge and non of his normal humor.

"Are you alright?" He tried a different approach, feeling a bit on edge himself now because this sort of derailed his initial plans -being far more important and immediate than visiting family in a week.

"I'm _peachy_. How's your brother?"

Sam blinked. "He's… fine. How are your brothers?" See, he could ask stupid questions too.

Nick didn't answer so much as he just watched Sam with that even, cautious expression. Not saying anything at all until things started to feel uncomfortable. "Why _are_ you here, Sam?"

"I just hadn't seen you in a few days. Wanted to say hi… I brought you a coffee." He picked up the cardboard cup and handed it over.

There was a moment of quiet suspicion and then Nick read the markings on the side of the cup and his face lit up. "Oh. Oh, you beautiful boy." He took the offered coffee and suddenly everything was fine. "Thank you." He sipped and winced, then smiled up at Sam. "How did you know?"

"The guy at the coffee shop said it was what you usually ordered." Despite the sudden shift Sam still felt uneasy. "I see you, um, kept the pictures from our trip." He nodded towards the board and its collage of photos.

Nick's eyes got a little lidded above a smile. "I like them."

"But they're… incriminating."

"Oh god. You're right. Do you think people might assume that we're… dating?"

"God, I hope not." Sam chuckled and hated it. He nudged a foot against Nick's and was rewarded with a small shuffle back. "People thinking I'm dating some kind of ruffian. How embarrassing."

"It was not a fight that I started if that counts for anything."

"Did you at least finish it?"

Nick took a slow breath, agitated little lines on his forehead and the corners of his lips. "No. I don't think I did."

"You want me to go find him and break his knees for you or something?"

That made Nick laugh. Hard enough that he had to set down his coffee.

"Is that a no?"

"I think it's best to let this one go." He touched his lip and managed not to wince this time. "I said I didn't start the fight. I never said I didn't deserve what I got."

"I leave you alone for a few days and you go pick a fight and get that pretty face of yours broken." He shook his head. "I'm invested in that face, Nick. At least one whole month of my time and you could at least try and keep it safe."

Nick turned his head to the side and lightly tapped a finger against his cheek. It took Sam longer than it should have to realize he was asking for a kiss- but there were other people in the room. People who he didn't know, who could easily see the two of them in the corner. And it was a bit startling to then realize that that alone was the only reason why Sam didn't just go for it.

As reason went- it was a fairly stupid one.

He leaned down and pressed a small kiss against Nick's cheek. "You are a trouble maker." He whispered.

"Only sometimes." Nick whispered back with a bit of a chuckle. He waited until Sam resituated himself against the counter, all the space in the world between them, before taking another small sip of his coffee. "And only when it will be the least convenient."

"I have noticed that." He played footsie just a little more without a single ounce of shame, kicking away at Nick like they were little kids. "So, Cas came by to visit me yesterday morning."

Nick tensed, just for a fraction of a second and Sam almost thought he imagined it. "And what did my little baby brother need? Looking for more dating advice?"

"No. He seems to be doing just fine on his own." Sam smiled to himself. "He actually was re-inviting me and Dean to Christmas."

He tensed again, showing a bit of teeth this time. "Eww."

"I'm thinking about going." He shrugged, hoping it came off as casual. "I mean, Dean's going. I may as well go too. No sense in staying home alone on Christmas."

Nick made a face, not at all concerned with hiding his feelings on the subject. "You can always come spend the night with me. I'll be just as alone. We can both be alone, _together_."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "Dean and I have never done much for the holiday season. We're not really that religious or festive- but he's the only family I've got. It would feel weird not to be with him."

"Suit yourself. But you're walking into a house full of crazies. They'll have you eating ham and singing Christmas songs and you won't get any sympathy from me."

Well- so much for Nick offering to go along so Sam wouldn't be stuck with his family.

"Come with me." He tried that pitiful look that always worked on Dean.

Nick laughed. "Hell no."

"Come on. I don't want to be stuck in a corner while Dean gets tipsy on eggnog and makes very heterosexual passes at Cas."

"First off, still no booze unless you smuggle it in yourself. Second, I'm sure that Gabriel will keep you company if your brother gets too caught up in making eyes at my brother."

"Great. You're just going to let me alone to defend myself against him? I'll screw up somehow. He's a lawyer. He'll know I'm lying."

"He'll be too drunk on contraband to even remember who you are- and he's honestly not that bright to begin with." Came the calm assurance. "But the offer still stands to come stay with me." There was absolutely no sympathy to be found. "We can order take out and watch bad movies and they can even be holiday appropriate if you like."

"Nick,"

"Still no."

"Then I will take my bribe coffee back."

"It was a gift." He held the drink to his chest and smiled up at Sam so sweetly.

"No. It was definitely a bribe."

Nick looked him square in the eye as he licked the lid of his cup. "Mine."

"Am I supposed to be afraid of your germs at this point?"

And Nick simply took another drink of his coffee, his eyes shining with the smile that he hid.

"Come on, Nick. Please."

"I don't know what Cas offered you to come down here and try and talk me into this- and don't deny it. I know he did. But whatever he gave you in trade, it wasn't worth it, because the answer is still no."

"He didn't offer me anything." Sam sighed, marveling at how quickly this had come apart. "He just asked."

"Did he give you those big eyes of his?" Nick chuckled and nodded when he saw the look on Sam's face. "Yeah. He seems innocent enough- but he knows how to work the system."

Sam made sullen work of his coffee. Disappointed in himself and at the great and quick mess he had made of things. But in his defense, he had started this yesterday by telling Cas that he didn't think he would be able to do it. Simple as that. He didn't know Nick all that well. Hadn't known him all that long- not enough know where his soft spots lay.

He could keep picking though. Sam was nothing if not stubborn.

"Nick, why didn't you tell Cas about us?"

Nick froze, shuttering to an almost perfect stillness. The tip of his tongue darted out, tasting the dark stitches at the corner of his mouth in an unconscious, nervous little gesture. And Sam suddenly realized that, given time, there would be a scar.

What a crime to damage such a perfect set of lips.

What an odd thought to have.

Sam made himself look away, and that must have done the trick because Nick was able to find his words once no one was looking at him.

"Cas- he didn't need to know."

"I thought that was the whole point of all this." Sam set his cup back on the counter, mindful off all the books and papers. "Or are you just going to pick and chose who gets to be part of this sham?"

"_Sham?_ Seriously, who talks like that?"

To which Sam felt no need to justify himself with any kind of response.

"Come on, Sam. Cas doesn't count." Nick explained in a way that sounded almost like a whine. "He's just a little kid."

"He's an adult."

"Yeah, but he's still my kid brother and I don't like lying to him."

Sam looked back at Nick- just really _stared_ him down, and for once it worked. Nick showed an ounce of humanity and shame and cracked slightly under one of Sam's best bitch faces.

"It's not like I didn't tell him _some_ of it. I just left out all those kinky details we worked so hard on."

"I left those details to you- and they had better not have been… kinky." He specifically remembered telling Nick that he could fill in all the gory little bit that he needed as long as he didn't go over the top- and Sam didn't have to hear about it later. "You must have really wanted to spare Cas, because he asked if you had kissed me yet."

Nick shrugged with a small, unapologetic kind of smile. "He's got some idea."

"_Some_?"

"Mhnm. I told him how I can't get over that you're actually taller than me, and how it puts that damn mouth of yours at eye level and it drives me crazy. I told him how you get those little dimples when you smile- yeah, just like that," Nick reached up, but let his hand fall back before he actually touched Sam's cheek. "And how you don't mind when I get in your personal space, and how you're so god damned warm it makes me just want to wrap myself around you."

"You told him all that?" Only one or two of which did Sam find even slightly believable.

"Those are the ones I remember."

"You're the worst." Sam reminded - just in case Nick had forgotten.

"You keep telling me that, but your dimples say otherwise."

A sigh caught in Sam's throat and he decided to take the opportunity to look at the walls, at the ceiling, at anything that wasn't Nick and that smile of his. His smile that had become somewhat lopsided from the stitches.

Sam wanted to hurt whoever had hurt Nick- it was such a strong and irrational feeling. Sam didn't think of himself as a violent person. Apparently there were exceptions.

"I've- I should get headed home. Dean's expecting me there when he gets back from work."

Nick didn't answer to that and if forced Sam to halt his close examination of the ceiling tiles and actually look at the man.

The laughing and teasing was gone from him, no trace behind, not even enough for a good memory.

One last try. Couldn't hurt, right? "Consider coming with. I'd have more fun with you there and I know at least some of your family would really like to see you." Honesty was always an option.

"Sam," Nick said in the most awful of ways, that single syllable said in a way that spoke volumes of horrible things. It was the 'we need to talk' tone and it brought only dread.

"Yeah?"

"Come down here so I can talk without shouting." His eyes drifted over to his coworkers then back up to Sam who _was_ towering as best as he knew how.

So he leaned down, even if he didn't want to- because Sam found himself suddenly very afraid of what was about to happen. It's just that Nick wasn't a serious sort of person. Maybe he could be a little cranky at times, but not serious. Not like this.

It didn't set well with Sam.

"When we were figuring this all out… back at the restaurant in the beginning," Nick's nose wrinkled just a little and he kept his voice so soft it was almost impossible to hear. "We didn't lay out any ground rules about sex."

Sam straightened, spine rigid. "We didn't need to. You said hand holding at most and you've already gone way past that."

"Not with _you_, you ass." The little muscle in Nick's cheek twitched as he ground his teeth. His voice dropped back down. "I mean extracurricular, with real people, other people, not just in the stories I'm swapping with my brother."

Oh.

Nick meant…

Three months could be a long dry stretch.

And it was logical. Sam totally got it. It'd been a few months for him since he'd last been with someone, and that someone had been a nameless and very friendly girl that Dean had pushed in his direction. It hadn't been particularly notable.

There was no good way to know how long it had been for Nick- and it wasn't Sam's place to demand that he be celibate for two more months. But fair didn't enter into it. Sam wanted to say no. Wanted to fold his arms over his chest and tell Nick just how much trouble he was in for even asking.

That feeling alone was enough for him to stop and take stock of what sort of mess he had started to become. But he ignored it. It was too soon. Such feelings were best ignored for at least another few weeks- to come to him painfully in the middle of one night, when it was far too late to do anything about it.

If he had said something right then he might have saved himself from a lot of pain later.

And that was simply not the Winchester way.

"Nick- this is a… a don't ask, don't tell kind of thing for me. You're an adult, alright." How many tiles did the ceiling have? He'd left off counting at thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty. Forty-one. "You do what you've got to. It's really not my business."

Nick must have stood, because even while examining all that the world had to offer up above Sam's head, the blonde suddenly passed into his line of sight.

His good hand found Sam's cheek and he pulled the younger man down, giving Sam no choice but to look him in the eye. "And that is why you're very much my favorite."

Great.

About the last thing he wanted right now was to be anyone's favorite. Certainly not Nick's.

The man leaned in just enough to lay a very light kiss on the end of Sam's nose.

And that wasn't what he wanted either.

Though Sam had this sinking feeling that even if he knew exactly what it was that he wanted right then, he wouldn't have been brave enough to ask for it.

Along the lines of things that Sam didn't particularly want… or need, Nick gave him a ride back home. All he did was explain that he hadn't really planned to get any work done today anyhow (what with his good hand busted) and apparently it was too cold and too far for Sam to walk.

He could have lived with the kindness. It's not like Nick wanting to take care of him was a terrible thing, but Dean's car was already in the driveway and Sam knew a bad sign when he saw one. It was too early for Dean to be home- and it's not like it was a giant dark omen or anything even half as sinister. There was just this growing feeling deep in Sam that he never should have got out of bed today.

"Thanks for the ride." He gave Nick a gentle nudge before climbing off the bike.

"Oh, we're not done yet, darlin'." He killed the engine and clamored off after Sam. "I need to talk to your brother."

Sam wanted to say 'not today' and to send the man back to his own home, but instead he found himself being closely followed, one of Nick's fingers hooked through one of his belt loops. And god only knew what it was that Nick could possibly have to talk to Dean about- but Sam figured that he would find out soon enough. Curiosity was a dangerous thing.

In the overdramatic way that he had sometimes, Dean had managed to arrange himself in the center of the couch, a terrible centerpiece that clashed with the room's decor. Which was no easy task on account of none of the furniture matched in the first place, being scavenged from a half a dozen second hand stores over the past few years. But Dean managed. He was good like that. A man of many skills, was Sam's big brother.

One of those skills was how well he was able to pull off a black eye.

"I told you to wait for me to get back, Sammy." Dean said sourly, his whole body angling in an oddly more aggressive way when he saw that Sam wasn't alone. "You son of a bitch. I told you to stay the hell away from my brother."

Not really understanding what was going on, Sam put himself between his brother and his boyfriend and tried his best to use his height in order to hide one from the other. "Dean. Hi."

Dean got up off the couch and winced at the movement, touching his ribs for a second. "He tell you what happened last night, Sam?"

Not really, but Sam hadn't asked. Nick had obviously been in a fight, there wasn't much need for a deeper explanation. Though looking at Dean… maybe… maybe he should have asked. Maybe it was a bit more important than he wanted to believe.

He looked over his shoulder at Nick who didn't look even vaguely interested in taking the offered shelter. "You didn't."

"He started it."

Dean prickled, angry in that articulate way that he could be at times. "_I_ started it? You – you son of a bitch."

"You already called me that." Nick taunted softly.

Dean lunged, and if Sam's hadn't been expecting it then he might have actually got a hand on Nick. Instead he caught his brother, wrapping hands very tightly around his shoulders and holding him back.

"I'll call you a lot worse, you fuck."

"Whoah, hey." Sam gave Dean a soft shake, drawing his attention. "Would one of you like to tell me what's going on or should I just get out of the way so you two can have another slap fight?"

"It was a little more than a slap fight." Nick said softly.

"I had to spend two hours in the emergency room with your god damned boyfriend last night. Apparently I've got bruised ribs and the nurses said I can't work for a week."

"Calm your tits. You had Cas to hold your hand."

"Fuck you."

Sam still held Dean, very determined that at least one of them remember that he was still here. "Any story at all. Doesn't even have to be a good one. Doesn't even have to be true."

"Cas and I went out for drinks last night after work." Dean was watching over Sam's shoulder, gaze steady. "We ran into your _boyfriend_ at the bar and he wasn't alone."

"And I already told you that she's a friend who needed a ride home."

"Unless the little skank lives in the bar then I ain't buying it."

"And I told you that I don't give a flying fuck what you think because it's none of your god damned business." Nick didn't sound like he had even a fraction of the anger that Dean was clinging to like a lifeline- but it would have been a mistake to consider it a sign of weakness or guilt.

"You screw my brother and a week later you take some chick out for drinks- yes it's my fucking business. It's _my_ brother that you're cheating on and I swear to god that I'll break more than just your face if you don't get out of my house."

Sam's grip felt weak and he struggled to keep a hold on Dean.

"I told him last night, Sam. I told him that if I saw him again I would kill him."

"You need to calm down." Sam urged.

Dean bore his teeth and leaned into Sam's hands, pushing against him. "You need to be less calm. You didn't see her and the way they were hanging on each other. She wasn't a _friend_ and he wasn't giving her a ride home."

"You just know everything, don't you?" Nick leaned into Sam's back, soft breath along the younger man's neck.

"I know when I came over to talk to you, just to clarify that you were still dating my brother- she offered for me to join you two. And she wasn't talking about drinks, Nick."

"Dean." Sam gave his brother a shake. "Dean. It's fine."

"_Fine_? It's not fine. Don't you dare let this bastard treat you like this, Sammy."

"I told him it was ok."

The problems that Sam let himself get dragged into.

The problems that he made for himself.

"It's not ok." Dean felt a need to be mad enough for both of them. Hell, he was mad enough for at least sixteen scorned brothers.

"I gave him permission. A while ago. It's really not a big deal." It wasn't a whole lie. Time was really relative anyways and giving permission after the fact was just semantics. At least Nick seemed to think so, and how could Sam be properly mad when less than an hour before he had given his blessing.

He could practically feel the smugness radiating against his back.

It probably would have been better for everyone if Sam wasn't ever so slightly more than vindictive. He felt tricked. He felt mad. He felt a need to take it out on someone.

"There's things he can do with a girl that he can't do with me, Dean. He doesn't have to be on his hands and knees. He gets to be all manly and on top and all those normal things that guys who don't have dominant boyfriends get to enjoy." He couldn't see the expression on Nick's face, but Sam could only hope it was half as upset as Dean's.

It's not every day that you learn you're the bottom in a gay relationship.

Certainly, it had shocked Sam when Nick had simply told him that he would be on top simply because he was the one paying for their meals. It was only fair if Sam took the same random opportunity to make such broad and unsubstantial proclamations.

What was Nick going to do, call Sam a liar?

"We've only been seeing each other for a few weeks. We're not in love or anything and if he needs to hop into bed with some girl every now and then so he can still feel manly then he has my blessings."

Dean ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, agitated and confused little movements as he grimaced. "Are you serious?"

"What I do in bed, what he does in bed- whether together or with other people is actually none of your business." He let go of Dean, sensing that the danger had passed. "Please try and remember that before you come out swinging." He made careful eye contact with his big brother, making sure that Dean could hear the unspoken 'thank you. I know you meant well' that he felt so deeply right then.

"You know what?" Dean's hands went up in the air, all kinds of surrender. "I don't want to be involved in this. You two are weird and gross and just leave me out of it." He went to the kitchen.

Sam waited about a second before turning on Nick. "You broke his ribs?"

"He threw the first punch."

"And you look good on your knees."

Nick's eyes were wide and so very pale. "Sam. _No_."

It was hard to keep his smile tucked away where it wouldn't make things worse. "But I thought I was your favorite?"

"A little less now."

"I could have just let him kill you, you know? He would, and I would've happily helped him hide the body."

"I think you're over reacting."

"I think you're lucky that I like you." Sam patted both of Nick's cheeks, maybe a little too hard.

He closed his eyes and scowled. "Are you hoping for an apology or something?"

"You sent my brother to the emergency room and you tricked me. Why should you apologize?"

"I tricked you?" Nick's arms came up, not so much like a hug as just a means to pull Sam close, close enough that their chests brushed and Sam could smell the coffee on the other man's breath. "I asked you an honest, straight forward question and you said yes, go ahead. I went ahead."

"You asked me today. You went ahead last night." He made almost no noise at all, whispering so that Dean couldn't hear.

"Look. It's been weeks since I've... she's a … I did a sugar skull on her a few years back, she's a derby girl and it's their logo. She sweet talked me into a ride home, offered to buy me a drink in trade. I said yes. She shows up again every now and then… it's sort of a standing arrangement now."

"She's… she's a booty call?"

"I'm hers. She doesn't even let me stay the night." Nick chuckled and played with his stitches, little pink tip of his tongue. "She's aggressive, knows what she wants and enjoys taking it. I like giving. Even if I'm a bit sore then next day. So… I give her a ride home when she asks for one."

Sam shook his head, because he didn't need to know all this.

"Look. I can't always take _myself_ home. And I sure as hell am not giving _you_ any rides." He tightened his arms just a little. "You can't blame me for wanting a little company. Which I didn't get, by the way, because your overprotective big brother had to throw and over protective big fit on your behalf."

Sam wanted to get out of the circle of Nick's arms. He didn't feel safe here. "I'm not going to apologize either. You can give her a call, pick up where you left off."

He managed to look mildly embarrassed. "I don't actually have her number. Legitimately, she doesn't want me for anything else."

"You actually sound happy about that."

Nick grinned and it tugged the stitches, leaving his lower lip bloodless and pale. "She appreciates me."

"Not enough to give you her phone number or to let you stay the night."

"Hey!" Dean came back into the room, somewhere behind Sam, and he didn't have to see his big brother's face to know that he was frowning. "Not where I have to see it. This is still my house and I'm still pissed off at both of you."

Sam nudged Nick off, hands on his stomach, looking over to watch Dean folding himself onto the couch. "Why are you mad at me?"

"Because my pain killers haven't kicked in yet and you're kissing the jack ass who punched me in the face."

"I've punched you in the face before." Sam pointed out.

"You're my brother, I have to forgive you. He's a phase and I don't have to give him the time of day because he's still seeing girls on the side and I think he's a dick."

"He's not invited to our wedding." Nick decided.

"Neither are you." He pushed the man even further away.

Sam knew that he shouldn't be happy that Nick was here.

Nick was a giant problem.

So much more trouble than he was worth.

But he was smiling at Sam, and he hadn't gone off with some girl last night- and that shouldn't be a factor into anyone's happiness other than Nick's own. The sad fact was that Sam liked Nick. Considered him a friend. But if this was any other friend then they would be sharing a chuckle and a nudge over possible conquests and aggressive women.

Sam just felt relieved.

And guilty for feeling relieved.

And stupid for both of those in varying degrees.

He took a few steps towards the stairs. "Nick- come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Upstairs where Dean doesn't have to watch us."

Nick's eyes lit up and that was the whole of his smile. But it was enough.

He ended up staying the night, not because it had been decided on beforehand. Sam had sat on one end of the bed, Nick on the other and they just started talking. Talking about the dumbest things. Sam wanted to know if there were any other ladies waiting in the eves that he should be warned about. The answer was no, but it somehow lead to when was the last time Sam had been out with a girl, which lead to the ongoing struggle that was going to bars with Dean, which inevitably lead to a contest between who had the most obnoxious brother.

They just ended up laying in bed talking, talking until they both realized how very late it had gotten. Too late for Nick to drive himself home. It was a weak excuse and they both bought it and that probably said more on its own than anything else up until that point.


	10. Chapter 10

an:/ I absolutely love that you guys keep coming back for an upsettingly long story made almost entirely out of fluff that has all sorts of indications of ending badly.

You guys are too good to me.

Have an unexpectedly long chapter, one last bit of niceness before the wheels come off.

* * *

><p>Sam didn't know what it was that he expected to happen when they made the short exodus to Half Moon Bay. It wasn't like he had celebrated any level of Christmas in <em>years<em>. Him and Dean usually went to the shooting range on Christmas eve and stayed up late watching _Die Hard_ and _Gremlins_ while drinking too much and eating junk food. It was a fine tradition in his opinion. He knew that none of those things that he usually looked forward to each year would be happening tonight. And that was alright, because he and Dean had made promises of making up for lost time later in the week. New Year's eve had been reserved and dubbed Christmas- the sequel. But tonight…

What do people do as a family if they actually all get along and aren't trying to pretend that everything was normal and fine?

Or maybe pretending was actually a big part of the holiday season.

Sam got to attempt to unpack his mixed feelings while he was stuck in the back seat again, alone this time and no one to keep him company. Dean had called shotgun and was sitting up there trying to explain baseball to Castiel who seemed honestly puzzled by the sport and just kept asking the oddest questions. Like who picks the team's colors, and what happens to the used baseballs when the game is over? Sam was just about ready to start shaking his big brother's seat when they pulled into the driveway of Gabriel's overly expensive home. The sun had set on the drive down but the house was well lit with what looked to be an entire village's allotment of holiday lights. Bright white and warm like a super nova, all the light reflecting back oddly against the fog that was coming in from the sea.

Climbing from the little car Sam saw the one, single thing that he hadn't expected to get out of this Christmas. And it made his breath catch.

Nick's bike was sitting quiet and unexpected over beside a child's pink bicycle that still had training wheels attached. The pair looked oddly out of place beside the perfect little trees and all the grass that was tipped white with frost.

The sight made Sam smile but the startling noise that crawled out of Castiel when he saw the bike made him grin.

Rekha met them at the door, wearing gold jewelry that was expensively offset by a very soft white sweater dress which hugged her curves in pleasant ways. This was only something that Sam took note of because she pulled each of the three men into a warm hug and it was only polite to hug her back. Such a soft sweater. It must have been made of bunnies or clouds or something equally classy. Her hair tickled the underside of Sam's chin and she smelled like cookies.

Sam was even more happy that he had agreed to come.

Dean's turn came next and he looked positively ecstatic and held on to the woman for a little longer than necessary.

Castiel was the only one who got a kiss, just a little one of both cheeks and he smiled one of his odd little smiles and carefully adjusted his sister-in-law's necklace. "You look beautiful."

She snorted a little laugh "You too." She looked over at the Winchesters. "It's nice to see you boys again. Come inside. Come inside."

They were brought in from the cold, and apparently it wasn't just Rekha that smelled like cookies. The whole house did and she must have just been marinated in the scent.

From the corner of his eye, Sam could see Dean looking towards the kitchen and he knew that look. That longing. He elbowed his big brother before he had a chance to ask when they were going to eat, and Dean looked up at Sam, all wide eyed and innocent.

"What?"

"Wait for dinner." Sam hissed, following their hostess deeper into the house, in the wrong direction from the food, towards what definitely sounded like Christmas music. The rest of Castiel's family was packed into the living room. Michel and Gabriel on the couch along with Anna tucked comfortably against her husband's chest, his arm around her and a hand resting on her rounded belly. Nick was sitting on the floor in the shadow of the room dominating Christmas tree, sucking on a candy cane and arguing with his smallest niece over what color they should be making the bear in the coloring book that they were sharing. The nephew, Isaac, was playing a very quiet game boy while his other sister sat beside him with round eyes, watching everything on the tiny screen.

The majority of the adults took notice of the company and there were pleasantries exchanged. Michael stayed seated while his wife came over and gave each of them a considerably fiercer hug than the other woman had given. Castiel took the affection with ease, just as Dean did. Sam still felt a little awkward, but apparently they were just a very demonstrative family and if he was going to be here then he would have to pay the toll.

Anna tugged him down and Sam braced for a kiss on his cheek- but was left waiting.

"Thank you." She said softly against his jaw.

"For what?"

"For Nick. He didn't tell us he was coming. He just showed up. When I asked what made him change his mind he said it was because you were coming and he was worried what we might do to you if he wasn't here to keep you safe." She smiled so brightly up at him. "So thank you."

Sam looked over her head, watching Nick trading his candy cane for one of his niece's pigtails, making soft growling noises while she giggled and colored the bear a striking, yet very unnatural shade of blue.

"I…" Sam didn't really know what to say. Nick had looked up, still eating the little girl's hair while he smiled at him from the other side of the room and Sam made himself look away, down at the delicate woman who was still gripping his sides with surprisingly strong little hands."You're welcome." He finally managed.

She seemed to have forgotten about kissing him and simply let go, placing her hands on her stomach and going back to the couch where Michael was waiting for her. Sam accidently made eye contact with the man and so they traded small, polite nods. Unfortunately he also caught Gabriel's gaze and the smallest brother grinned at him, all teeth and cheerful welcome.

Sam made a slight attempt to separate himself from his Dean, wanting to just go and sit down beside Nick, to tell him thank you and maybe steal his candy cane (it had been years since he'd had one and he suddenly found himself with a craving), but he was cut off by a running child. The littlest girl had finally batted Nick away and threw down her crayons, getting up and running towards them with open arms.

She completely ignored the extra men and flung herself at Castiel. "Uncle Cas! Did you leave my pony outside? What is her name?" She demanded as she was lifted up into his arms, the man wearing an absolutely baffled expression while he hugged his niece.

"What pony?"

"Uncle Nick _told_ me. He said that you were getting me a pony for Christmas. Is she pink? Can I name her Daisy?"

"He was teasing you, Hannah." Castiel sounded exasperated by the bombardment of questions as he gave Nick an accusatory look. "There was no room in my car for the pony this year. Maybe I will bring it for your birthday."

She pouted at him, her fat little cheeks sort of taking the menace out of it.

"I did bring you candy though." Castiel offered and it was hard to tell if the child or Dean looked more happy at the news.

Sam shook his head and went over to the coffee table, stepping around the other two children who hadn't really taken notice of the new guests. He settled himself down carefully beside Nick, folding his legs as best as he could beneath the low table.

"Hey."

"Hello." Nick answered back with a ghost of a smile.

"I didn't think you were coming."

Nick's smile widened to include a glimpse of teeth. "No. That one's too easy."

Sam considered what he had just said and if there was any innuendo to be found- and then he had to roll his eyes. "How's your-" He nodded to Nick's lip and his hand.

"I've got to keep the stitches for another two weeks and I'm not allowed to eat any spicy food. And my fingers still hurt. I can't work with them wrapped. Otherwise I feel fantastic.

" 'm sorry." Sam sighed and Nick just shrugged, offering him a red crayon.

"I had to reschedule a bunch of appointments at the shop, but I guess that it doesn't hurt to have a bit of an extended vacation. I probably needed it."

"You do." Gabriel waggled a bare foot in their direction. "You work too hard and it makes you a pain in the … butt." He grinned over at Anna.

Nick just shook his head and nudged his coloring book towards Sam. "Gabriel thinks it's real funny that I got in a fight with my boyfriend's brother."

"Because it's hilarious." Gabriel pointed out.

And Sam took definite note of the sour expression that Michael wore as soon as the word 'boyfriend' entered the conversation. Sam did his best to look as innocent and nonthreatening as he knew how. He scribbled lightly in the book and let his knee touch Nick's below the table.

They scribbled together and talked quietly of unimportant things while the other adults carried on fairly mundane conversations while waiting for a little egg timed on the arm of the couch to go off.

"Hey-" Sam poked Nick's wrist with his crayon. "I like the bracelets."

And Nick chuckled softly, holding up his arm so that Sam could better see the plastic beads that came in every color of the rainbow and then some. It was a mess of shapes, some of which looked rather pointy and not at all suited for jewelry, others were small and white and black, spelling out 'NICk' very proudly. Sam reached out, touching the beads, turning the bracelets to see if the others said anything. One said 'jeRk FacE' , one said 'miS Luci leggs 4 daYs', one simply said 'ass' and one last one just that had oddly chalky feeling beads of all roughly the same size.

"Sarah made this one for me." He pointed to the first with his name on it.

"And the rest?" Sam touched the varied and yet fairly accurate descriptors.

"My beautiful sisters made them for me."

"I helped." Gabriel shook his foot again, apparently very interested in the conversation going on over there and wanting to be part of it. "I made the one about his legs."

Nick ignored his brother as easily as breathing. "And Hannah gave me this one- which was a mighty sacrifice on her part." He tugged on the simplest one, holding it up to Sam. "It's candy. And girls have it so much better than we _ever_ did. They get to wear their candy. My snacks were never this convenient."

Sam laughed and had to look away because nothing good could come from watching Nick quietly nibble two of the beads from this bracelet.

The tree was a nice safe place to look. It was kind of obvious that it had been decorated by Gabriel's wife and comfortably reiterated that they were a family with no children. All the decorations actually matched, none of them had been made by small clumsy children's hands, and they were all glass. Much like art, Sam didn't really have much basis for his judgment on the tree, but there was something aesthetically pleasing about the teal and gold decorations and their very careful placement, so he liked it.

Nick's hand came to rest against his leg beneath the table and Sam jumped a little. He looked back and was treated to an unsettlingly innocent expression.

"You _behave _yourself." He hissed, doing his best to sit still because Nick was tickling him, whether intentional or accidental, and he knew if he acknowledged it even for a second it would only make things worse for him.

"What behave? I am a perfect angel."

"An angel who seems to be trying to measure my inseam."

"I'm, uh, fitting you for a suit."

"Do I get to wear it to your funeral?" Sam smiled hopefully.

Nick chuckled, his eyes closing just enough that they lost their color. He leaned into Sam, touching their shoulders and temples together. It was far more affectionate than he usually was, alone or with other people, and Sam had a feeling that Nick had decided to play the whole 'gay thing' up for his family.

Aside from learning that he was ticklish, Sam wasn't entirely sure that he really minded.

"You behave." He still warned, even knowing that he wasn't being listened to.

"_You_ behave." Nick repeated into his cheek.

Sam whispered, not wanting to get the man in trouble but at the same time… "Are you drunk?"

"I am as dry as the day is long." He pressed a little kiss right near the corner of Sam's mouth, right about where his dimple must have been. "I'm just happy you didn't stand me up. I was worried you wouldn't show and I'd be stuck by myself in the lonely corner."

"You didn't need me. You've got a lovely little redhead to keep you company."

"I can't compete with Cas though." Nick leaned back, retracting his long fingers to his own lap where they should have been all from the start. "He keeps candy in his pockets, you know."

"Maybe that's why Dean likes him so much." Sam mused to himself, which set Nick chuckling again and Sam had no choice but to join in.

The little timer sitting on the edge of the couch went off and Gabriel was the first one to start running for the far side of the house. The rest of the family followed at a slightly more sedate pace.

Now, Sam had eaten Thanksgiving at this table, with this very company- and he supposed that he suspected much of the same. In a way it was. Someone said grace, hands were held (or Nick's wrist was held at least because his little finger splints kept him from anything more complicated). The food was incredible, and Sam ate far too much. Which was to say he ate almost as much as Dean who had to be storing it somewhere, but it was anyone's guess as to where.

Nick kept sneaking food off Sam's plate, even though he easily could have served himself from one of the dishes. He just insisted that this was easier and continued spearing vegetables and bits of meat despite any protests.

It felt like he had fallen into one of those sickeningly perfect Christmas movies.

And Sam loved every second of it.

Right up until Gabriel threw a green bean at Nick to get his attention. That marked the turning point of the meal.

"Luci, remind me before you leave. I've got letters from The Spawn. "

Nick went from annoyed at the airborne vegetable to anxious, his voice dropping a bit. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. She made you a card and everything, and she likes the earrings you sent her."

"Don't read my mail." He said with a sigh even as he shifted in his seat, eyes a little bright.

"Hey, it was addressed to me, not you." Gabriel said in defense, grinning in that wild way that he had.

"I know. I know." Nick tugged at his lip, careful of the stitches. "Is she doing alright?"

"The kido is doing fantastic." He assured.

And Sam whished he knew who they were talking about but he wasn't brave enough to ask, though he had a weird suspicion about who _she_ could be.

"Who are you two talking about?" Michael asked loudly in a way that sounded an awful lot like he already knew the answer and the rest of the table grew quiet which only made the noise from the little kid's table in the corner seem that much louder.

Nick got this sickening smile. "Your mother."

"She likes to check in now and then." Gabriel joined in without losing a single watt of his grin. "Wants to see if we've managed to find anyone willing to take you off our hands. She gets a finder's fee you know."

"Unfortunately the gypsy's asking price is too high, but if we keep pooling our money we're hoping to relocate you by next summer."

"There's a nice farm out in the country that might be interested."

"You'll love it." Nick looked so sincere. "It's got lots of trees and room to run around."

Michael set down his fork, his back rigid. "You two are childish."

"Only a little-ish." Gabriel waved his hand back and forth in a so-so gesture.

"And Gabe is really too little to even be entitled to an _ish_."

"It's true." The considerably shorter brother nodded enthusiastically. "I'm thee inches shy of _ish_."

Rehka leaned over and nodded to Anna. "He's actually about four and a half inches shy of ish- but you know how men like to round their measurements."

The redheaded woman hid a startled laugh behind a hand.

Michael only sighed like he was disappointed in all of them, even those who hadn't contributed to the teasing, but he had been derailed and the conversation moved on to other things.

Sam picked at what was left on his plate, watching Nick from the corner of his eye, the way that the man was rocking just a little in his seat, smiling to himself.

He leaned into his friend, taking a chance. "Whose 'the spawn'?"

Nick's grin faltered and he looked down at his plate, suddenly subdued.

"Never mind." Sam said quickly, not at all liking what he had accomplished by asking.

Nick reclaimed part of his smile though it looked a little strained. He leaned in, talking low enough that it was just for them. "Ask me later when I'm too drunk to remember why we don't talk about her. Alright?"

"Alright." He repeated while crossing his fingers and hoping that Nick wasn't serious and didn't somwhow plan on drinking tonight. There weren't really all that many rules and if the man had any plans of driving himself home tonight then it gave him double reasons to keep clean.

Anna got up, wobbling slightly and catching herself on her husband's chair. Every man at the table was suddenly half standing- even Sam rose and out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean getting up as well- even if the small woman didn't belong to them.

Anna just looked annoyed. "Calm down. I lost my balance is all." She started collecting dishes and shaking her head.

"Sit. I'll take care of these." Michael said gently, putting a hand on her back before taking the dishes from her.

"I'm pregnant, not invalid."

Michael simply kissed his wife's head and collected the dishes without much more argument. It singled the end of the meal and most of the adults managed to take their own dishes into the kitchen.

And the problem came from the fact that Sam really didn't know his way around this house. It was a lot of house. Two of his own could have easily fit in here- with room for a pool. It equated to him just sort of following the flow of traffic, trailing after people who looked slightly more informed than he was. He kept close to Nick who was carefully herding his littlest niece who had insisted on carrying her own plate. She was so focused on what she was doing, not letting her leftover vegetables slide to the floor, that they took the long way around the hall.

"Monster," Nick said softly, leaning down to be closer to her level, his back almost parallel to the floor. "Do you know where we are?"

She hesitated, looking up. "We are in the hallway."

"Yeah, but we're also are under the mistletoe."

Her big eyes went up to the doorframe that would have taken into the kitchen. She grinned and took two little steps back. "No."

"Yes."

"No. No. No." she giggled and Nick clumsily scooped her up, noisily kissing her cheeks while she shrieked in delight.

Sam did his part, carefully taking the dishes from the two so that Nick and Hannah didn't drop and break anything.

"Happy Christmas, monster." Nick finally set her back down and she took off running, wiping her cheeks and looking over her shoulder to see if she was being chased. She wasn't, but that didn't stop her from scampering off out of sight.

"You know," Sam found himself smiling, "she's aggressively adorable."

"She is my favorite." Nick smiled back. "Even if she's a little sticky sometimes." He rubbed at one cheek and stood aside so that Sam could get in through the wrong door to the kitchen with his dishes.

"I think most kids are a bit sticky." Sam said as he shuffled past, setting the plates down beside the sink.

"All the best ones definitely are." He leaned in the doorway, being of no help to anyone at all.

Sam smiled and shook his head- strangely amused by how much affection Nick had for his little nieces. The evidence there in writing over his wrist in bright plastic and candy beads. The blond man was just about as cute as the little redheaded child who could still be heard giggling somewhere in the house.

"Are we on dishes duty tonight?" He came over, perfectly willing to accept the chore because it felt like a fairly fair payment for the delicious meal.

"I was kind of hoping to avoid it if possible." He folded his arms over his chest. "I even helped cook tonight. It keeps me off KP duty."

"You helped?"

"I stirred the jello." He said proudly then huffed a little when he saw the look Sam was giving him. Nick held up both hands, waggling his splinted fingers awkwardly. "Hey, I've got a broken wing. I can't do much other than stir."

"You're a good man."

"I'm an insufferable ass." He held out his wrist. "I've even got a bracelet to prove it."

"You're also under the mistletoe." Rehka pointed out gently as she drifted by with a collection of cups.

"…oh." Nick looked up at the offending doorway, eyes going just as wide as his niece's had.

Sam almost laughed, but he was standing right there with Nick and it wasn't quite as funny as he initially thought.

"Well?" Rehka raised an eyebrow, expectantly.

"Well what?" Nick looked about ready to vanish back into the safety of the hall.

"I provided the dinner. You could at least provide the entertainment."

Nick looked up at Sam, then deeper into the kitchen where Michael was watching them with an incredibly stern scowl.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Nick said carefully, barely loud enough that Sam could make out the words and it was hard to tell exactly who the man thought he was talking to.

Rehka rolled her eyes and went about arranging dishes on the counter, obviously no intention of actually cleaning them, but doing a nice job of lining them up for whoever was going to wash. "He gets shy." She explained to Sam in a way that more teasing than sympathetic.

"I'm not shy."

Gabriel came to stand beside his wife. "Oh, Nick, you gunna kiss him?"

"Well I'm not going to kiss you."

And Gabriel got that horrible grin of his again. "If you you're not going to kiss him, can I?"

"No." Nick said almost as quickly as Sam did.

"Come on- this is a waste of mistletoe and bad timing."

"This is very inappropriate." Michael condemned the whole thing quite loudly.

Nick made a face.

"They're dating." Rehka argued. "And we've all seen Nick do far worse things than kissing another man."

"I would prefer to unsee all those things, not add to them." Michael bore his teeth- and that's where Nick got the expression from. The family resemblance was unsettling.

With pale, terrible eyes, Nick looked up at Sam again, accompanied by a little twitch of his lips which was more a question than anything else.

Sam felt his eyebrows go down. He almost shook his head but managed the smallest of shrugs in its place. He felt defensive for Nick. Protective. Which was stupid, but the way that Michael spoke just rubbed him wrong.

He couldn't tell if Michael was afflicted with just general homophobia or if it was his broad, comprehensive dislike of his brother that was just coming through so clearly.

So Sam shrugged.

Lord have mercy on his soul.

He shrugged.

Quiet thanks as well as a healthy amount of anxiety passed over Nick and he shuffled close enough, leaning in and leaning up. But they both went the same way and bumped noses like two idiots who had never actually kissed before- which was fair, because in all honesty they hadn't. Hadn't even planned on it. Despite whatever storied that Nick had told his family, and whatever it was that Dean kept thinking that he was walking in on them doing. This had never been in the plans.

But Nick was comfortably physical with his family, and it's not like he hadn't been slowly conditioning Sam over the past few weeks to be completely ok with being kissed on the cheek. This really wasn't any different. Right?

Except it was different, because Sam tried to tilt his head to the left instead only to notice quite quickly that Nick had the same idea. It was clumsy and awkward, their noses bumping. And this was not a problem that they had ever had before.

Hell, this wasn't a problem that anyone outside of the sixth grade ever had.

"Damn it, Nick." And Sam put a hand on either of the man's cheeks and turned him one way so that he could go the other, and he fit their mouths together as easily as two jigsaw pieces. It should have been just that. A quick press of lips, only long enough for Sam to remember that he should have been more careful because Nick still had stitches. Hardly that long at all, maybe two seconds, tops. And then they could step back, receive their well earned cat calls and applause and disapproving slurs and it would be consider a job well done.

Except that, for whatever reason, Sam had sort of expected Nick to just stand there calmly and take it- like a normal straight man who suddenly finds himself kissing his very normal straight friend would do. It should have been a joke. Just a quick, noncommittal press of lips to appease the people watching who assumed that the two men had done this roughly a hundred times together over the past few weeks.

Very rapidly Sam realized that that was not what was happening.

For some unspeakable reason Nick had closed his eyes, pressing against Sam, breathing him in deeply with one slow, long, inhale. His tongue teased the seam of Sam's lips as he breathed out a low sigh.

He tasted… like apple juice, and for whatever damning reason that could be thought up, whatever flimsy excuse that could be made and not upheld later, Sam opened his mouth. Felt Nick's teeth graze his lower lip, just as light and innocent as the fingers that were now resting against Sam's hip.

God, but it had been far too long since Sam had kissed someone if something so small and meaningless could make it so hard to think straight. It was just warm skin and the scratch of stitches and the sweet after taste of apple juice. A horrible feeling started in his chest, a trembling that bled all the way to his hands and he was grateful that he was pressing his fingertips so tightly to the bones in Nick's cheeks for the other man to feel the treachery that had leeched into his body.

But Nick, bless his bitter, depraved heart, went ahead and blew the moment, his hand slipping to Sam's ass to give him a rough squeeze.

He pushed Nick off. Half laughing, half mortified because he might have made some kind of emasculated noise when he had been grabbed. "You are literally the worst."

Nick was laughing too, a loose fist covering his mouth as he turned his face away, his cheeks unmistakably pink.

"You two are adorable." Rehka informed them even though there was nothing adorable about what they were doing as far as Sam was concerned.

Sam glanced over and wished that he hadn't. Michael looked about a heartbeat away from armageddon. His wife's face was almost as red as her hair. Gabriel and his wife, on the other hand, looked like two different versions of pleased- one more smug, one more charmed. Castiel was in the other doorway to the kitchen, just looking about as pleased as a puppy with a new shoe.

Nick waved to his family before taking a modest bow. "Thank you. Thank you. And for my next trick I will need a female member from the audience."

"Oh, pick me. Pick me." Gabriel raised his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"You're all degenerates." Michael growled and pushed past Castiel and a startled looking Dean as he left the room.

The older Winchester brother looked annoyed then confused as he turned back to Sam. "What the hell did I miss?"

.:.

Although there was a small amount of protesting from both Nick and Dean (they had an upsetting amount of similarities sometimes), once everyone calmed down and everything was cleaned up, the family plus two recongregated in the living room and Christmas songs were sung. The three little children, as well as their uncle Cas and Gabriel really seemed to get into the whole festive mood. Sam let himself get dragged along, too content to fight it right now. The amount of eggnog that was consumed helped a little. It helped a lot actually. It was… strong nog, considering that there was a ban on liquor in this house.

By the time that they made it through a handful of songs and a very gentle and lovely retelling of the nativity story by Anna to her children, Sam found that he was embarrassingly tipsy. Looking around the room, he was fairly certain that with the exception of the three kids and their mother, that he was not alone in his inebriation.

Even Michael seemed to have pulled that stick out of his ass, smiling easily as he helped his youngest pick out a few good cookies to leave for Santa. He and his wife gently herded their children down to a room in the back of the house where apparently was the guest room that they were staying in for their visit.

Nick put his head on Sam's shoulder, slouched down low on the couch beside him. "I feel like I swallowed the sun." He rumbled happily.

"You're definitely warm enough for it." He answered back, letting his own head fall back so he could look at the patterns that the Christmas lights were making on the ceiling. Nick felt hot for the first time since Sam had met him, toasty warm from alcohol and pressed close enough to Sam that there was a bit of sweat prickling and pooling down at the base of the younger man's spine. It was almost too warm.

Sam didn't mind as much as he should have.

"You do know that you're not allowed to drive yourself home tonight, right?"

"Hey, I know my limit." Nick snorted. "I don't pay much attention to it, but I know it."

"You going to get a ride home with us?"

Nick snorted again. "There is no way that Cas is going to be able to drive anywhere for at least a few hours."

Sam looked over and almost started laughing when he saw that the dark haired man had already fallen asleep. Knees tucked to his chest, face mostly hidden in his folded arms. He looked like a little kid. A little kid who definitely wouldn't be driving. Unfortunately Dean didn't look much better, sitting on the floor at Castiel's feet, fingers laced together over his stomach and his eyes lidded, cheeks rosy.

"Great." Sam chuckled and let his head fall back.

Rehka threw a pillow at them from the far side of the room and she missed spectacularly, hitting the wall behind the couch instead, but it got their attention. "You kids can stay the night. If you promise no hanky panky."

"I'm not promising you shi- anything." Nick clumsily corrected himself.

"Don't promise her _anything_." Gabriel begged, slurring just a bit around the edges. "If you… if you kiss him again Michael might have a… a coronary and we could watch his head _explode_."

"A coronary is a heart attack." Rehka patted Gabriel's leg. "You mean aneurysm."

"Fine. Aneurysm. And _then _we can watch his head explode."

Nick sat up, a spark of hope in his glassy eyes. "Sam?"

"No." He laughed and caught Nick by the shoulders as the man attempted to lean in anyways. "I told you to behave yourself tonight."

"You are no fun at all."

Rehka rose up, managing to stand much taller and straighter than Sam thought possible. "Nick, love, you need someone who is no fun. He will help balance you."

"Our Nick needs all the help that he can get." Gabriel nodded and dragged himself to his feet and stretching. "We've got floor and couch down here- more floor and couch upstairs." And his train of thought left without him and Gabriel blinked wide, owlish eyes and turned to look up at his wife for more help.

"And you boys can sort yourselves out however you need to." Rehka finished. "I will go find some blankets and Gabriel is going to try and remember where the backdoor is so while you boys argue over who sleeps where he and me can go out and have a smoke."

"Oh, I like that." Gabriel nodded as he wandered off, glancing back over his shoulder. "Having a 'smoke' means that we are going to sit on the swing and kiss."

Nick gave his little brother a thumbs up before chuckling quietly and putting his face back against Sam's shoulder. "I like them better when I'm not sober."

"I'm proud of you for not getting into a fight with anyone yet."

"I did that before you got here." He confessed softly. "And I will probably do it again tomorrow before I leave. It's tradition, you know."

Sam sighed and pressed his mouth against the surprisingly coarse fluff of Nick's hair.

"If I'm going to come all this way I'm not going to _not_ punch the bastard in the face at least once."

Cas raised his head just enough from his knees to blink at them with wide, sleepy eyes. "We're all bastards, you know. Dad never married any one of our mothers."

Leaving a warm patch in his wake, Nick managed to sit up and survey the room rather evenly before finding his brother on the far end of the couch. "Cassy, you want to sleep down here with Dean or upstairs with me?"

Dean finally opened his eyes, hearing his name. "What?"

"We're staying the night." Sam explained gently, feeling like it was his job as seemingly the most clear headed and least drunk person in the room.

His big brother eyed the abandoned plate of cookies with a hungry expression. "If we stay do you think that Santa will bring us presents?"

Sam sighed. "Not for you- you're a bad person."

Which made his brother laugh warmly. "True, but that fat jerk has always had it in for me." And he took one of the cookies from the plate, stuffing it in his mouth without remorse.

"Cassy." Nick tried again, undaunted by the interruption. "Where do you want to sleep?"

Castiel frowned and put his head back down, grumbling something that sounded like 'here is fine', which was pleasantly vague because it gave no indication of his preferred company.

And it was a bad time for Sam to make a decision for the four of them, but someone needed to.

"You two can have the couch." Sam nodded to his brother and the accountant, knowing that he himself would be fine and safe sleeping beside Nick, because he'd done it many times before and come out relatively unscathed.

Dean might not be so lucky. But he was supposedly an adult and looked mostly asleep at this point. Castiel was already at least eighty percent unconscious and between the two they should be able to manage a quiet, well behaved night's sleep. It also meant that Sam would have a good portion of house between him and his brother- who tended to snore rather like a wounded hog when he'd been drinking and it would be nice to have the distance.

With a somewhat confused look, Dean kind of nodded, climbing up off the floor and examining the couch, assessing the best way to fit on it with Castiel.

Sam dragged Nick up, holding both his wrists and gently pulling him towards where he thought that the stairs might be. With a glance back he saw that Dean was sitting beside Cas, quietly talking to him while he untied the man's shoes for him.

Sam had no idea if it was a good or a bad sign that he'd been doing the same thing for Nick about a week ago. Maybe it just spoke to the fact that Dean had raised him right, or perhaps the brothers had simply gotten themselves involved with the same sort of guy. Someone they could take care of.

As if to help reiterate that thought, Nick crashed into him, rutting his face between Sam's shoulders and grumbling. "I don't think I can do stairs." Mouth hot against Sam's spine.

"You can make it."

"Cary me."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen." Sam laughed and began dragging once more. He was able to take the stairs upright, though he had to keep a firm hold on the banister the whole way to manage such a feat. Nick made it by holding the stairs in front of him with his hands- but you know, sometimes dignity had to be sacrificed for a lower center of gravity.

Sam wouldn't bring it up later.

He'd crawled his own fair share of stairs over the years.

It soon became obvious why Nick had wanted to sleep up here. It wasn't that he was sparing his brother the navigation of the stairwell, it was that the couch up here in the tv room was one of those big 'L' shaped ones and far superior for sharing. However there was also the recliner that Dean had fallen asleep in last time they were here… but Sam wasn't going to go down and let his brother know about it.

He would rather have the room to just him and Nick, and that was probably wrong.

While he tried to help Nick back to his feet, and then to detangle himself from a very warm, nice smelling hug, Rehka came down the hall with an armful of blankets.

She gave them both an amused smile as she set half the blankets on the couch. "Remember, I don't have sex on your couch, don't have sex on mine."

There were very few things that he knew for sure- the fact that he wouldn't be having sex with Nick tonight was one of those things. "We won't." Sam promised very easily.

"Unless you want to come to my place next week, Rehka." Nick still had his arms around Sam's shoulders even as he spoke to his sister, seeming not at all interested in letting go and it was hard to tell if he was just being difficult or if it was just that this was the only way he could keep standing. "We can arrange a bit of a trade."

"Don't say that where Gabriel can hear. He might actually take you up on an offer like that." She said wisely and walked off, back down stairs.

"I like her. She tells you no." Sam decided out loud as he steered Nick to the couch and forcibly shoved him off once he was sure that there would be a soft landing.

Nick made a soft oof noise and managed to look up at Sam with a fairly affronted expression as though he felt that he somehow didn't deserve being thrown down onto the couch. "I am injured you know. You could be a bit more gentle."

"I thought you liked forceful women." Sam tried to tease, but he was sure it came out a little weird. _Very_ sure that it came out weird by the startled look on Nick's face.

So Sam did the adult thing and pretended that he hadn't said anything at all, and instead busied himself with getting off his shoes and unbuttoning his flannel. Not _undressing_ mind you. He had on a tshirt underneath. He also had a very clear understanding of his own body and he knew that he would get way too warm while he slept if he didn't shed at least one layer.

It would have been a little less weird if he couldn't feel the other man's eyes following every little move that he was making.

"You want me to get the light?" He wasn't sure if Nick intended to sleep how he was, but do you know what? Sam wasn't going to help the man out of any shirt or shoes tonight, so if Nick was going to take anything off he was on his own.

No response came, so Sam just went ahead and doused the lights, and as he turned back to the couch he wished that there wasn't a bit of light coming in from the hall because he could still see Nick sitting there exactly where he had been dropped.

Eyes just as drunk and wide and pale. He looked stricken. Stunned.

"You ok?"

No answer.

"Did you get stuck, _honey_?"

"You have really broad shoulders." Was Nick's answer as he finally shook his head and leaned forward so he could watch himself in the darkness, trying to toe his shoes off.

Sam took a slow breath and came back to the couch, feeling braver than he thought that he would, but that might have had a lot more to do with the consumption of eggnog than any real courage on his part.

To be honest, Nick wasn't all that scary on his own.

It was more like… Sam tried not to drink himself to this point because right now he was loose enough to do something really easy and stupid, but not drunk enough to not understand the consequences or forget things when the morning came. This was the perfect caliber of drunk where he could talk himself into doing something awful because he could definitely get away with it. Definitely.

This was the same reckless feeling that usually stayed at bay until after midnight.

It was only eleven.

Why had he had a third glass of eggnog?

He didn't even like eggnog.

The couch gave gently as he stretched out on one side of the L, putting his head near the bend so that he was closer to Nick.

"I… I didn't hurt you earlier, did I?"

Nick blinked down at him and shook his head again. "It's just a couch. I may not have much of an ass to cushion my fall, but I'm fine."

"No. I mean earlier, back in the kitchen when … I grabbed you."

The edge of his mouth twitched in an almost smile. "You can say _kiss_. It's not a bad word."

"I didn't kiss you." Sam felt heat prickle up his neck, his throat tightened, and all kinds of other awkward reactions that were thankfully mostly hidden by the dark. "A kiss is- it needs meaning and passion and… _wanting_. That was just a way to say that I think Michael is a dick and I don't like how you look when he talks to you. I just did it to bother him." He took a hard breath. "It wasn't a kiss."

Nick didn't say anything, but Sam could see the man look off at the far wall, reaching up to tug at his lip even if it made him wince.

"I think it would have worked just as well if you didn't grab my ass, by the way."

That drew a small chuckle out of Nick, warm and half hearted. "I couldn't resist."

"I think I already threatened that if you went for it I would bite your face."

"That sounds about right." He glanced down. "But I believe I offered up my neck for such punishment. My face has already been injured by a Winchester recently."

Sam had gone as far as pushing himself up to his elbows before a little voice in the back of his mind started yelling 'abort' and he realized what he was about to do. He lay back down, pointedly not looking at Nick's beautifully unprotected throat.

He felt the man settle down eventually, lying so that his head was near Sam's, still warm and thankfully quiet.

Something in Sam couldn't just let it go. That something was, again, the eggnog. And as convenient a scapegoat at it way, he couldn't keep blaming it for everything.

"I can't believe that you just went for it though."

"You really don't know me well enough then."

"You're like the little kid who is offered a lick of someone else's ice-cream cone and you go ahead and try and shove the whole thing in your mouth."

"In this analogy what part of your body gets to be the ice-cream cone?"

Sam reached back behind his head and thunked his hands against Nick's face. This was not graciously accepted as a punishment like it was meant, but as an offer to engage in a clumsy head pushing contest. Nick won, but only because he managed to catch one of Sam's hands and lace their fingers together in a way that felt almost permanent- or at least far too nice to ruin. So Sam lay there with one arm over his head, quietly holding Nick's hand in his, trying to catch his breath and keep from smiling, even if no one could see him doing it.

Easier than it should have been, Sam pulled Nick's arm down closer, looking through the dark at the mess of plastic beads that the man was still wearing.

"Why do they keep calling you Luci?"

Nick sighed and brushed the top of his head against Sam's. "Bedtime story time?"

"Sure?" Sam was unaware that he was getting himself in for a whole story. He would have settled for a sentence.

"My mother- she was a few chicken nuggets shy of a Happy Meal and when I was born she named me Lucifer."

A laugh died in Sam's throat when he realized that the man was serious.

"It's not a great name. But I was too young to argue at the time and my father was already on the other side of the country where he belonged. When I was six, she packed me up a backpack with candy bars, coloring books, and my birth certificate, and she left me on a greyhound bus headed out to California. A note pinned to my jacket with my father's name written on it." Nick's hand was warm in Sam's. "My dad let me legally change my name when I got older but Gabriel and Michael apparently liked Lucifer better. So they still call me Luci- when they feel like reminding me why I don't like to visit."

And Sam didn't have much of anything good to say to that.

He opted to drag Nick's wrist over his mouth, teeth searching for and finding the beads that were made of candy. He bit off two and they tasted chalky and sweet.

"Hey. Are you eating my jewelry?"

"Nope." He said between crunches.

"You're a monster."

Sam ate another bead.

Nick didn't take his arm back.

"So out of any name in the world you chose Nick?"

"I chose Nicola."

Sam hesitated with his mouth pressed to the soft pulse in Nick's wrist. "Nicola… like as in Nicola Tesla?"

"I was eight."

"You knew who Tesla was when you were eight?"

"We watched a lot of PBS." Nick bumped their heads again. "For a man with suddenly three sons and no paternal instinct, Dad did the best he could."

"Are you still in contact with your mom?" Sam asked and immediately regretted it. He was too close to Nick to miss the slight flinch.

"She overdosed on heroin the same night she sent me to California."

"My mom died when I was a few months old. Apparently there was a house fire." He didn't know if he offered that up as a consolation or what- he just needed to say something.

Nick didn't loosen his grip on Sam, but he tugged their wrists over his side and took a few bites of bracelet for himself. His stubble scratched along the younger man's wrist, possibly followed by a hint of teeth, but there was no proof. And Sam really didn't want to know.

Somewhere deeper in the house came the distinct sound of Dean snoring.

How lovely to be so far away from that familiar noise.

"What was in the eggnog?" Sam asked out of curiosity.

"Tasted like rum." Nick took another bite- of the bracelet, not of Sam. "I prefer scotch, but it's not as good for mixing. Besides, Gabriel only buys the best stuff, which is just as easy to get drunk off of, but you get to feel posh while doing it."

"I made sure to keep my pinky up the whole time."

"Good man. I knew you wouldn't embarrass me." Crunch. Crunch.

Sam tugged their arms back over so he could mouth his way back over the bracelets. Hoping he wasn't too late. It took a bit of searching, but eventually the plastic gave way to sweetness and he found the last few beads.

"Nick?" He asked between bites.

"Yo?"

What had he wanted to ask? Every question that came to mind was a bad idea.

"Never mind."

"Never mind?"

"I don't drink rum." He tried to explain.

"Ok?"

Sam closed his eyes, tasting the slight tang of salt on Nick's skin between the beads. "Nick, what if… if we had a normal first kiss like normal people who actually date and like each other and that sort of thing- that didn't involve mistletoe or you trying to make Dean really freak out… how would it have gone?"

For a while Nick didn't say anything at all, and if it hadn't been from the slight tension in the curl of his fingers then Sam would have started to wonder if the man had fallen asleep.

"Do you mean _ideally_, or do you mean if we weren't both so damn straight and you didn't think I was such a gross old man, how would it have gone?

"Nick, I don't think you're gross. I _know_ you are."

Nick's laugh was too loud, competing with the relative quiet of the house, and it tapered off into a quiet chuckle as he squeezed Sam's hand.

"So you mean _ideally_ then?"

"Never mind." Sam repeated and turned his face towards the back of the couch. "I just had a bit too much to drink. Dean says that I ask stupid questions when I've had too much."

"You do." Nick assured and carefully took his hand back, leaving a cold empty feeling in its place. "But stupid questions deserve stupid answers. So, it would have happened… carefully."

"Carefully?" Which had to be true, but at the same time was such a strange way to answer.

"Mhmmn. I would have been terrified of acting too soon and getting my clock cleaned."

"You were afraid to kiss me?" Sam felt like he was getting some of his words mixed up, but Nick still answered like he understood, so most of what was being said must have been in the right place.

"Yes. You've got that impressive right hook and I don't like having my nose broken." The quiet threatened them again, but Nick managed to keep it at bay. "I would have waited until we were deciding to call it a night, when you were already half asleep and too tired looking to do much damage."

"I'm twice as dangerous when I'm half asleep." Sam tried to look back at Nick, but they were too close and it was too dark and all he managed to see was a bit of blonde.

"I've noticed that- but only after we started dating, so if this was early on then your violence wouldn't have entered into my giant mistake."

"I'm a mistake?"

Nick didn't answer that one at all- but the universe heard it, and every rum soaked nerve ending of Sam recoiled and knew the answer anyways.

"I would have said goodnight and kissed your cheek." Nick picked back up after an incriminating pause. "And I would have missed on purpose and if you didn't take a swing at me I would have missed even better a second time."

"You would have… what do you mean, you would have missed?"

The couch dipped and Nick sat up on his elbows, looming like a dark threat over Sam. "It's not complicated, mister college." He swayed just a bit. "God. You're dense when you want to be."

Sam bore his teeth.

Nick just sighed. "It's not hard to miss. Now, ideally the room wouldn't be spinning and you wouldn't be upside-down, but..."

Sam's spine went rigid, even tired and even being more than just a little drunk, he knew enough to brace himself.

Clumsily, Nick's good hand came up to Sam's face and the man came down, placing such a small, innocent little kiss to Sam opposite cheek. Except, true to his words, he missed. His lips brushed feather light just along the corner of the younger man's mouth. And if there hadn't been any forewarning it would have felt like an accident. Straying just a few centimeters too far to the left.

"Like that." He said so matter of factly, smug and concise and lacking in any real intent other than proving a point. But then he didn't pull back, he stayed close, inches between them but no light to make out any of the fine details. His thumb strayed from Sam's cheek, edge of a fingernail tracing his lower lip.

"And then I would have waited like this to see if you were going to hit me… except more right side up, because this is a terrible angle to wait at." The apple juice smell had faded from his breath, overwhelmed by the sweet mix of rum and nutmeg. "Even if you didn't take a swing I would have waited- because the lack of a negative isn't the same as a positive and we have established us being tired, not drunk or suicidal during this ideal and fictitious night many weeks back." He rambled along, obviously getting just as lost himself.

Sam felt that same horrible shaking from earlier in the night coming back to him and he dug his fingers into his blanket, doing his best to explain to his body that there was literally nothing to be so upset about right now. He was safe and warm and Nick wasn't actually going to-

"I could have stayed like this forever, just waiting for you to close your eyes… or lean in… or just smile at me." Nick whispered even if the rest of the house was sleeping. He whispered because right then it was just the two of them, so close together that anything louder than a sigh would have been too much to share.

"And I would let you decide when you wanted to let me kiss you."Nick swallowed thickly and let go, retracting his hand and body, leaving Sam staring up at the flat, featureless ceiling.

The man settled back into the couch, rustling his blankets and taking his time to get comfortable.

"Merry Christmas, Sam." He said softly and when he didn't get an answer back right away he added on a very soft and not entirely honest sounding, "sorry about grabbing your ass."

Sam wanted so badly to fill his mouth with Nick's name, but he had realized too quickly that couldn't be that kind of brave right now. And the liquor wasn't ever meant to last but without rum for an accomplice Sam was left curled on his side staring into the night, trying to find meaning in the clumsy shadows and shapes while he listened to his friend slowly trying to find sleep.

It took a subjective eternity for Sam to reach out, searching for Nick's hand again, but by that point the man was already gone.

With a feeling somewhere between regret and relief, Sam pressed his face into the cushions. "Merry Christmas." He told no one in particular, wondering to himself why he hadn't just stayed at home tonight where things were safe and familiar and far less confusing.


End file.
